She ran.
She ran as fast as she could.
It was both an escape and a return for her.

Her footsteps led to the now burnt down building of Opera Populaire. The place where all important events of her life happened.

Memories came flooding back as she was nearing the burnt down building.
Images of her angel flashed before her eyes.

She quickened her pace. Although her shoes, tights and underskirts were soaked with water and had muddy splatters on them, she went faster and faster.
She couldn't stand the thought of her Angel of Music dead or harming himself.

She was finally at the grand staircase which lead to her past home. She climbed it and forcefully opened the door atop of it. She climbed over the leftovers of the door and ran the deserted halls.
Dust was covering everything and small spiderwebs were in each corner she saw.

She arrived into the grand hall, in which she has experienced her first ever masquerade.
As she walked towards, she noticed something shining in the dust. She picked up the strange object, discovering it was a porcelain mask.

She pressed the emotionless mask close to her heart, as if there was a face hiding behind the mask and she was letting the person listen to her heartbeat.

"I am back." She whispered to the golden statues aligning the staircase. She held the hand of the nearest one, polishing it's golden motionless fingertips.

She quietly went towards her old dressing room.
More memories came back to her as she neared the burnt door.
She turned the small doorknob and went into the room.

What she found inside were all of her belongings that she left there. They were all covered in a layer of dust. The flowers in all of the vases were withered, their papery petals hardly even being held in place by the grey stems.

She came closer to the mirror and oped the secret passageway. The hallway behind the reflective piece of glass was dark.
The young soprano immediately opened her very own little lantern that she brought with her and ignited the nearest candle. She then took the intricate golden candle holder into her small hand and followed the pathway, remembering every twist and turn.

Her steps were hesitant and slow, but she was slowly and surely nearing the destination where her heart was along with the Angel.

Her small and fragile form soon neared the underground lake, where she found a small passageway which she has never seen before.

She held her body near the damp wall, so that she won't slip. Her fingers were gripping on the stone bricks and tracing the various designs.

Soft candlelight was slowly appearing at the end of the hall.

She released her grip on the wall and ran for the light. Not that she wasn't fond of darkness surrounding her. That was the reason she came.

She arrived with panting to the lair of the Angel. But to her sad surprise, he was nowhere to be found. Tears formed in her eyes as she saw the thick layer of dust covering each musical instrument in the cove, each mirror in there shattered into tiny sharp shards.

A pile of ashes was near her. She curiously neared it and pulled out a piece that escaped the dangerous passion of the flames.

"Oh no..." She whispered with more tears as she realized what the pile of ashes was before. The ashes were music sheets. His own compositions were before her, destroyed and irrepairable.

"Why would you do this angel?" she whispered through tears.

She slowly walked to the lake and dipped her bare feet in the cool water.

A flash of white suddenly appeared under the water and Christine suddenly jumped straight into the water. She opened her chocolate eyes and swam deeper and deeper until she reached the white.

Small bubbles escaped her mouth before she covered it with her hands. The white that was under the water was a body. The body of her angel.

She took his body in her embrace and pulled it onto the ground above.

Christine was searching for a heartbeat. Nothing.

More tears were forming until she felt a very soft impulse.

With new-found hope, she pressed onto his heart. Once, twice, three times...

She then pressed her lips onto his, breathing air into his lungs. She felt him move and pulled her lips away.

His breathing and heartbeat were constant, but his eyes didn't open.

"I returned, Angel..."

She whispered and a small tear of joy ran down her cheek.

Christine quickly ran into the lair to get the red blanket from the swan bed. She snached the piece of velvet and ran back to her angel.

As Christine was putting the red blanket over her angel, she noticed a red spot formed on his shirt.

Curious, she unbuttoned his shirt and what she saw made tears start forming in her eyes.

What caused the red spots to appear were multiple fresh cuts.

Christine immediately teared off one of her underskirts and teared the fabric to stripes to use as bandages.

She carefully wrapped the bandages around the bloody areas.

She needed to turn her angel to his side, so she is able to tie the fabric in the back.

But yet another sight made her eyes drown in tears.

The phantom's back was covered in scars. Christine slowly traced her fingers along the biggest one, which went from his shoulder across his entire back.

"Angel, I won't leave again. I promise." She whispered as she planted a soft kiss onto his deformed cheek.

The young soprano suddenly noticed an envelope on a small table. Her delicate fingers took ahold of it and she teared the top open. Christine began reading the letter.

For : Christine, the most angellic person I have ever met

Dear Christine,
I know you may not even read this but if you stumbled across this letter one day, I hope you read it to the end and don't just crumble the paper into a ball and burn it although I don't hold much hope.

I am truly sorry for what happened. You see, my angel, my real name is Erik and I was raised in a gypsy freak show. There, I was taught how to unleash the monster I truly am. I was on display everyday and I was constantly beaten.

One night, when the freak show was in Paris, I killed my gypsy master. Your ballet instructor, Madame Giry, saved me from the policemen. She hid me down here, where I couldn't be found by anybody.

Then, I met you and became your teacher. Altough people say you can't feel feelings towards others if no one has ever had those feelings to you, but I started feeling something towards you. I then didn't know what it was, but now I am wiser.
What I felt was love.

And the rest is history.
I hope you have a beautiful life with Raoul and you have lots of beautiful children.
Please, forget about me and about the story of how a monster fell in love with an Angel.

I have not used my voice since then, because it caused all of these problems.

Farewell,
Erik

As Christine finished reading the letter, tears poured down her porcelain cheeks.

Erik then stirred and Christine ran to his side, now knowing her Angel's real name and what he has gone through.

Erik's eyes slowly opened and he saw his angel before him. He wanted to speak to her, but the long time he didn't use his voice caused him to be silent for a while.

Christine finally for the first time in an eternity took a look into her angel's magical golden eyes once again.
"

I returned, Angel." She whispered as she caressed his cheek with care.
"Please say something. I am yearning to hear your voice again"
Erik was confused. The last things he remembered was that he cut himself once again, wrote Christine one final letter and jumped into his lake to plunge into it's depths and end his existence.

"Christine...." He whispered, using his voice once again.
His hand reached up to her cheek and pulled her closer.

Their lips met once again, electricity running through both of them.

Tears started pouring down both of their cheeks.

"Why are you crying, Christine?"
Erik asked his angel.

"I am just so happy that you are safe..."
She whispered through sobs.
"But why are you crying?"

"Because I can't stand you crying alone..."