“Christine, it’s over now. You’ll never have to think of him again.” Raoul whispered gently pushing the boat to their safety.
“It feels as though my life has ended.” Christine answered looking back at the lair, glimpsing the figure that once held her wedding dress.
“That nightmare is over.” Raoul put his free arm around Christine and noted how cold she was. Her gaze met his. “It is over Christine.” he stressed holding her tighter.
Christine took one last look as the boat turned leaving the lair behind, her past was haunted but her future looked bright as once again she and Raoul could see light. “I love you Christine” Raoul said wincing from his injuries as he held himself high. Christine said nothing holding on to Raoul for support as well as to keep him standing. The boat moved along the water to the dock, Christine helped Raoul out and up the stairs to what was left of the opera house.
“My god.”
“It’s horrible, there’s nothing left.” Raoul said picking up a piece of charred glass. “You’re angel did this.” he threw the piece of glass to the floor as pain rushed through his torso.
“You need a doctor.”
Hours had gone by since the fire had taken the opera popular and a few lives of the patrons whom enjoyed it. The news had spread quickly that the Phantom of the Opera had been killed, Christine sat in the waiting room of the hospital with tears running down her face. “He’ll be alright mademoiselle.” a nurse maid passing told her. “monsieur la Viscount is mending well.” Christine smiled at her in thanks. Little did the nurse know she wasn’t thinking at all of Raoul, could the rumors of his death be true? Was her angel of music truly that, now and angel?
Christine stood, she gathered her things and went to the side of Raoul, he had been given medication to sleep, she kissed him lightly and to his side left a letter and a rose. “Good bye sweet Raoul, Little Lotte must return to her Angel, she must return at once.” she glanced at him once more before leaving the room, and the hospital. She used his carriage to take her back to the fallen opera house, there she used her memory to find the lair which once held her waking nightmare.
“Angel” she called to the darkness. No answer came, Christine searched the lair for any clue to the whereabouts of her phantom but there was nothing. The mob had ruined the lair, looting and destroying anything of good. The only things left were smashed mirrors and the small music box she remembered playing as she woke the first time she had visited the cursed abode. She lifted it from his home and turned the music to play. “Masquerade. Every face a different shade.” she sang as the music carried through her. “Oh where are you now my angel?” the music continued as Christine sifted through the smashed mirrors and clutter. She found little until she moved the cloak in front of one smashed mirror. “It can’t be?” she smiled stepping into the darkness. Christine followed the hallway until she came to a cold cellar, she recognized the smell of a tavern and heard the boom of voices over head she continued moving until tired and wet she finally found the answer she was looking for. A door.
Chapter 2
