The choices we made

Chapter 2

*Erik 

 Unnoticed, I slipped out of a long-forgotten passage on Rue Scribe. I was greeted by the cool night, touching my body with cold air. The smell of smoke wafted around me.

 I wrapped myself tightly in a scarf that I found to cover the deformed part of my face as best as possible.

 I sighed quietly.

 I could still feel Christine's bittersweet kiss on my lips. The kiss that changed everything. I felt as if I was seeing everything anew. I no longer felt like a powerful Phantom, terrorizing everything just to get his way. 

 Oh, no.

 The ghost disappeared, leaving behind what I always was. Only Erik. Erik, wishing with all his might for someone to love him. 

 I couldn't look her in the eyes, not after what I had done to her. I didn't deserve this angel in human flesh. I saw the truth for the first time. I would never give her even a substitute of what Raoul would give her. Christine deserved to have a beautiful, lavish wedding that would be covered in the Parisian newspapers. She deserved a comfortable home, "normal" looking children, and, most importantly, a husband who she would wake up next to without flinching at the sight of his face.

 The only thing I could give her was my music. I used to think this was enough, but now I realized what a fool I had been.

 I let my thoughts come back to reality.

 Hiding in the shadows, I moved quietly and silently. I wanted to look at the opera one last time before I leave this place forever.

 I looked up. 

 Something grabbed my heart as I helplessly watched the Opera Garnier, my temple, my home, the place where I could feel truly safe for the first time... burn.

 I could only blame myself for that.

 I had let my love for Christine become a sick obsession, and now I had to pay the price.

 I was getting ready to leave when my eyes landed on a certain scene. 

 Right in front of the opera house, guards stood preventing the curious crowd of onlookers from getting closer. The young man standing closest to the guards tried to get into the opera house. Intrigued, still hiding in the shadows, I came closer, correcting the scarf once again. I froze. The man was that, oh God, the foppish Count Raoul de Chagny. 

 "She's there! Let me through!" he shouted desperately, trying to get between the two guards

 "Mr. de Chagny, with all due respect, please step aside. I can't let anyone pass. Appropriate services will arrive any moment. I'm sure they'll get your fiancée out in time," said the first man 

 "Count, control yourself or I will have to use force" added the second one, taking an object resembling a police baton from his belt and swinging it right in front of his nose.

 I felt myself getting weak. Christine was left in the burning building. 

 Right behind the count, stood two women. Madame Giry embraced her daughter, Meg Giry. Meg Giry sobbed softly. Her mother whispered words inaudible to me, probably words of comfort. She stroked her daughter's loose hair soothingly. Although the woman seemed composed, I saw her anxious gaze fixed on the opera house. 

 I quickly backed away and, making sure I wasn't noticed, headed for the hidden, long-forgotten passage I had just escaped from. 

 ***

 Smoke. Raging smoke spread all around me. I quickly removed the scarf from my face, creating a makeshift shield from the smoke. 

 With each heartbeat, I became more and more terrified.

 The feeling that I wouldn't find her in time was eating me up inside. 

 I decided to first check the interior of the opera house, which is closer to the exit. 

 Every now and then I shouted her name as loud as I could, listening for anything that would put me on the right path.

 Christine could really be anywhere. 

 I mentally cursed that damned fop for letting Christine stay in the burning opera house.

 I walked through the main hall, begging God, a God I never believed in, to spare Christine's life. I would gladly burn here alone, endure all the tortures in the world, in exchange for Christine's safety and life. 

 I stopped when I heard the muffled sound of coughing.

 Christine.

 I would recognize her voice anywhere. 

 At that same moment, I heard more than saw the wooden beam on the ceiling begins to crack. 

 I shouted loudly through the flames for her to run. I was too far away. She didn't hear me. 

 Bang. 

 One heartbeat later, the beam lay on top of Christine, crushing her. 

 I wanted to rush forward, but several boards on the floor burned, blocking my way.

 I managed to jump away at the last moment. 

 As I focused on another passageway, out of the corner of my eye I saw a beam gently rise and fall.

 In a rush of adrenaline, I managed to jump over the gap that separated us. 

 Being a few steps away from her, I felt a cold sweat break out on me despite the fire raging around me.

In a second I grabbed the beam and lifted it with all my strength. I cursed as the heat burned my hands. With gritted teeth, I tossed the beam aside. Then, in the blink of an eye, I knelt down next to Christine. My heart sank at the sight.

 She was unconscious.

 Her face was covered with dust particles. Her face was twisted in silent agony. Eyebrows slightly drawn together and lips slightly parted. I heard her ragged, wheezing breathing. Her skin was burned from her left cheek along her neck.

 On her right shoulder I saw a medium-sized open wound. 

 Gently, being careful not to hurt her, I picked her up. Then, holding her in my arms, I quickly but carefully moved forward.

  

   *****

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