Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera; I am making no money from this. Point of Information: The rest of the story is from Christine's POV, including the epilogue. Therefore, I am not going to specify POV anymore inside the chapters. Feedback: You know you want to review! When Raoul called my name from inside those deep silhouettes, I felt a lingering moment of shock. It seemed to me that everything that could have possibly gone wrong for Erik, and to a lesser extent, me had gone wrong almost in spite of our happiness. I had to take a deep breath; I was completely overwhelmed. It was my wedding day, the day I was to journey to my new home with my husband, and yet we were still in perilous danger; still being tormented by the cruel hand of fate. Erik was protectively standing in front of me with one arm extended back to hold me close. I clung to him in a deep, dominating fear. I was afraid for my own life; but I was more worried about Erik's. He seemed every ounce an angel - my guardian angel - in that terrible moment. He was proving his devotion in the most profound way, he was clearly showing that his life was completely secondary to mine in his opinion. There he stood, ready to suffer - to die - so that I might carry on. Little did he know that I wanted no life without him. Little did he know I was willing to make the same sacrifice for him. Raoul emerged from the darkness as a shadow of his former self. He was thin, his hair was as wild as Medusa's in her prime. His clothes were still in decent shape, but he was pale and looked ill, and his eyes were dulled with a resentment and anger that chilled me to the bone. He stepped forward to confront Erik: defeated, abandoned fianc� facing beloved husband. I knew that he was capable of anything - he had sent those men who had nearly killed Erik, he had seen to the destruction of the house by the lake, he had made a martyr of little, innocent Ayesha. He would not hesitate to kill. Most likely, he was simply waiting for an opportunity. I watched in sickened awe as this man that I once loved sneered at us from his vantage of distant hate. Then I noticed the glint of metal in his hand, the snarled twist to his grin. . . He had a gun, and he was headed straight for us. "Christine," he sneered, "My darling little lotte, how you've changed! What would your father say if he saw you cavorting with phantoms in the middle of the night?" Erik stiffened as if he was going to seize upon Raoul and end this ordeal right there, gun or no gun. Quickly, I grabbed his wrist, and he restrained himself, if only for a moment. "Run, Christine, and wait for me," he said tensely, but with a clear confidence. Not for a moment averting his gaze from Raoul, he added, "I shall be along directly." I knew he was right, that I had to leave, but I still longed to support him and I begged, "But, my husband, I. . ." "Husband?" Raoul interrupted in a fury, "Husband!" "Go Christine, go now!" Erik exclaimed purposely, and without another word, I obeyed him, and began my flight. I ran clumsily down the path towards the carriage until I almost fell in my haste, and came to rest under the protective auspices of a weeping willow. In the distance I could hear a struggle, I could hear angry words and harsh sentiments flying freely in the cool night air. Hell had descended quickly on paradise, and it was making its presence felt. I grasped the trunk of the tree in my nervousness, and I closed my eyes tightly and tried not to hear - not to consider - the world that loomed around me. I was almost succeeding in my efforts when the walls came crashing down. A harsh sound echoed through the air, unmistakably and undeniably lethal. Gunshots; three in succession, and then screams: horrible, ghastly screams. I was frozen for a moment in the silence that followed, my mind blazing with a thousand excuses. Surely Erik was the stronger, more experienced man in these arenas. Yes, and Raoul was obviously worn down by recent events. And clearly, Erik could have easily seized the gun and used it for his own purposes. Yes, yes, it was all perfectly alright: it simply had to be. Or. . . Without exploring any other possibilities, I ran back towards Erik. It was so dark, and I strained to see before me, but I could not. I knew I could very well be flying blindly into the arms of death. But, if Erik was gone, that hardly vexed me. I continued to run until I collided with something solid and heavy upon the ground. It was soft, I reached down, and I could feel that it was a body. Steeling myself, I turned it over to see Raoul's lifeless face staring up at me. It struck me as odd that I didn't feel any emotions for him as I stared back. Perhaps I was in shock. Yes, I was in shock, because if the gun had fired three times. . . "Erik?" I called out suddenly, desperately, as I stood up and turning all around in my search, "Erik!" There was a brief pause before the weak reply came, "Christine. . ." *To be Continued* |
| Light in the Darkness |