:"And in his eyes, all the sadness in the world. Thos pleading eyes, that both threatened and adored..":

3

You don't remember me, but I remember you, I lie away and try so hard not to think of you.
But who can decide what they dream, and dream I do.

Like a disease, the cancer of his love was gradually eating away at his soul, the silent war within destroying all that he had become. But what was he truly? He looked down at his bleeding hands, his torn clothes, each item he wore covered in soot and dirt. What am I? A monster... The scoffing voice echoed in his mind. An insignificant, pathetic creature, wallowing in the ruins of his so called life that he really never had. He wanted to run, flee, escape from that voice in his mind, taunting him, the jeers driving him deeper and deeper into his madness. He wanted peace... he wanted rest. But no, he must not rest! A moment of sleep could cost him valuable time, time he could be using to run.. to run from the mob that hunted him like a dog. To run from the city he'd come to love, to run from the burning building that had served as his paradise for so long. His palace was gone. His opera... his love... his only reasons to live, destroyed. What was left of his black heart crumbled each and every time he thought of them... those precious things he'd left in his home, if you could call it home. Yes.. yes you could. It was the only place he had been safe all these long years, the only place that the world had let him keep, something to call his own. His organ, his violin, the scores and scores of his genius music... gone. But the two things that completely broke him down, the two things that he needed to live out the agony that was his life; his mask, and …. Her.
What would he do? What would he do without the fortification of that white porcelain? That cold exterior that hid his tear-away face, that rigid shell that had grown not just to cover his outer façade, but his very soul as well. He was almost nothing without it... and I say almost because, he was something with it, even if that something was barely nothing. It was her that made him that little something. It was her that made him human. Christine, Christine...

I believe in you, ill give up everything just to find you,
I half to be with you, to live, to breath, your taking over me.
Have you forgotten all know, and all we had?
You saw me mourning my love for you, and touched my hand,
I knew you loved me then.

He clasped a decrepit hand to his heart, his tears streaming uncontrolled down his warped features. He was alone, shunned once again by the world around him... but he was used to that. It was she, her words that devastated him. She had left him, left with that boy, that inane child who didn't know how to love her, that fool who wouldn't know how to treat her. What mortal could know how to justly love an angel, such as her? She deserved so much more. And you think YOU were the one to give it to her? You fool. She's happy now. Pleased with her prince, exultant and in LOVE... the love YOU could never gain.
That voice, that voice! It was back again, back, that irksome cruel hiss that haunted his every thought. So cold that disembodied voice, malevolent, demonic, bitter undertones of the darkest sanity slamming down in waves of pure anguish as that voice spoke. But it spoke truth; the acrimony of the words only justified the stark, placid TRUTH. He clenched his fists, sinking slowly to the damp ground. He looked about him with bleary eyes, his mind distorted by his misery. He appeared to be in an enclosure of some sort, clearly deserted by the weeds and growth that choked the once lively greenery. His eyes, glistening gold flecks sparkling with his nonstop tears, peered into the darkness. Seeing plainly what lay before him he stumbled forward, reaching the solid walls of the forgotten house.

I believe in you, ill give up everything just to find you,
to live, to breath, you're taking over me.
I look in the mirror and see your face, if I look deep enough,
So many things that are just like you are taking over..

He gazed upon it for long moments, studying this empty shell of what may have been a magnificent mansion, regal and perfect in its day. But not now, not ever again. Now it lay barren and cold, so very much like him self. He sighed, glancing back one last time as the city that he had fled. Could it be his imagination, or could he truly see the distant spirals of smoke from the burning building that he once called home? He stood there staring at the grey streaks that marred the perfect moon, its full beams like one huge torch that lit everything about it. He shook his head.. then raised his hand in a wave.
"Goodbye.." His voice was distant, a strange sound in the silence that surrounded him. Sighing he went inside, the fading whisper carried on the wind... "Goodbye..."

I believe in you, ill give up everything just to find you,
to live, to breath, you're taking over me…..

A hundred miles south, that whisper must have carried, reaching the open window of the Chagney manor. It danced on the notes of the wind, swirling all around, bouncing off the walls till it finally found its prey. Reaching the tormented ears of Miss Daae, she screamed, her hands twisting in her hair.
"GOODBYE...GOODBYE..."
That voice, that voice, would she ever escape that voice? That heartbroken moan that plagued her dreams in both night and day? Would she every escape that single sob of a forsaken shadow, the shard of the dream that once was her angel? She collapsed to the floor, her cries reaching there crescendo.
"GOODBYE...GOODBYE..."
She shrieked, her wail sending shivers threw all who listened. That was the cry of a women in pain, the cry of someone who truly had just lost everything she held dear... and she had. She had, she had! She had lost her childhood home; she had lost her sanity, lost all concept of this horrible world. But, to the shock of her own heart and mind, she knew what she had lost that she would never gain again. Her love. Her tutor, her angel, her phantom. She had lost the one man who looked upon her with adoration in his eyes, seeing past the drab of her chorus life, the life that befitted only those of the lowest class. It was an occupation for maids who wanted fame, for hookers who were weary of there way of life. It was a poor life, a simple existence not worthy of attention. Only the lucky, rich, of talented reached fame. Only those who were a "someone" could carry and uphold the name Prima Donna... and with the help of that man she had. But he was gone, gone, never to return.
She whimpered softly, hugging her knees to her thin body, her wide eyes darting all across the room. It seemed like every shadow murmured her name, like every flicker of the candle beckoned her near. Trembling she squeezed her eyes shut trying to imaging that perfect paradise she once had dwelled in, so desperate to escape the madness that plagued her that she was willing to let go of reality.. forever if it had to be. But she found no comfort, not even in the corners of her memories.
"Think of me! Think of me fondly when we've said goodbye. Remember me once in a while, please promise me you'll try..." Her skin was on fire as the spotlight turned to her. She smiled, moving forward slowly, a visage of perfection. Tonight was her night; tonight a new Diva would emerge. As the music swelled she raised her arms slowly, her song following.
"We never said our love was evergreen, nor as unchanging as the sea! But please promise me that sometimes... you... will... think, OF ME!"
Her song ended and she curtsied, her smile growing as the audience leaped to there feet. Wild applause, deafening even, thundered threw the opera house, sparkling like golden butterflies in her stomach. The curtain closed and instantly she was surrounded by stage hands, managers, opera attendants, the ballet dancers... everyone so eager to praise there new star. In a daze she kept on smiling, shaking hands, sighing papers, accepting rose after rose. Finally, able to escape the turmoil of backstage, she fled to her room. Once safely in her room she locked the door, leaning on it slightly, her smile clouded by her weariness. Her eyes were closed but a moment when a sudden breeze stirred her mussed curls, sending an intoxicating scent of roses to attack her senses.
"Christine..." A voice sighed softly, heartbreakingly beautiful in that simple tone.
"Yes, master?" Her voice shook slightly, and uncouceisly she clasped her hands behind her back, nervous. The voice saw.
"You're shaking... do I find you in ill health? Or just... do you fear me?"
She didn't answer. Suddenly a gloved hand was at the back of her neck, one arm around her waist, pulling her back into a firm form. Her eyes widened as that voice hissed in her ear;
"Fear not little song bird, your 'angel' will not hurt you."
She could only nod, her eyes shut tight, savoring this contact. Then as soon as he had come, he was gone, the hands vanished. She collapsed to the floor shaking with... well with what she didn't know. Fright? Shock? Exhilaration? love? Laying her head on the soft carpet she sighed, to sleepy to care to move of the floor, just happy for the support, for solid ground. Slowly she slipped into dreams, painted with red roses and white masks.

"I linger in the doorway, alarm clocks screaming, monsters calling my names.
Let me stay were the wind will whisper to me, where the raindrops as there falling tell the story...
In my field of paper flowers, and candy clouds of lullaby's,
I lie inside myself for hours and watch my purple sky fly over me…"

She was dreaming. She was in a great pasture, a large meadow, surrounded by vast crystal trees. It was drizzling, the small drops hanging like diamonds in her dark hair. She raised her face to the sky, the tears falling form her blue eyes mixing with the rain drops. They whispered softly, millions of voices rising and falling together to form one... they were singing to her. She smiled, her eyes closing, her entire body swaying to the soft murmurs. She raised her arms, letting the water pour down over her soft skin, down, down, spiraling over her breasts to her belly, down her legs... Cleansing her all over, washing away her sins.
"Wake up Christine... wake up..." a kind voice tugged at her, snaking its way threw the sonata of rain...
No...no.. leave me alone.

Don't say I'm not in touch with this ramped chaos, your reality,
I know well what lies beyond my sleeping refuge,
The nightmare I built my own world to escape...

She danced on, ignoring the voice, hating that voice. That voice, that voice.. always that voice in her head. She'd grown use to it though. Since the age of six, when she first heard her 'angel' the voice had been there. She was 16 now.. always there.. always. It spoke again, no longer asking, just gently demanding.
"Wake up Christine, wake up. He needs you.. wake up."
Who? Who needs me? Why? Why now? Go away.. let me rest.. just go away.
"CHRISTINE!" The voice changed into screams, screams that didn't belong to her angel.
"CHRISTINE! CHRISTINE!"
Her eyes fluttered open, and for a moment she thought she'd gone blind. She saw only a thick black fog in front of her eyes.. then she smelt it. Burning.. burning wood, burning fabric. She realized what the fog was, smoke.. her house was burning.. and it was too late for her to escape. She closed her eyes, choking on her breath, knowing that this was it. She whimpered softly, the thought of dying alone, no one to say goodbye to scarring her. Why was her house on fire? Where was Raoul? Where was her angel?
You promised me angel.. that you'd always protect me.. you lied.
She was dying, she could feel her lungs start to give in.. it hurt. In her last moments she cried out her soot covered face lined with tears.
"ERIK!"
The scream died from her lips and she collapsed her body numb. But she saw him, waiting. His shining gold eyes.. his mask.. his smile.. she smiled as her heart stopped, finally at free from the guilt that plagued her.

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming, cannot cease for the fear of silent nights.
Oh I how I long for the deep sweet dreaming, the goddess of imaginary light...

That shriek penetrated the walls of the burning house, carrying to the ears of those who had escaped, watching in horror as the mansion was destroyed taking there mistress with it. Raoul De Chagney could only stare blankly at the flames, unable to comprehend that he had just lost his fiancé, the one woman he loved. He didn't flinch as the front gave way, didn't budge as the trees around turned into torches. But when that wail reached his ears his entire face changed, pure agony distorting the already grief stricken face. And though she had not told him, and though that scream was but one word.. he knew. He knew who she was thinking of in that last moment of life, he knew that he was not the one who held her heart.
He slowly rose to his feet, the flames still burning strong. Pulling out his rapier from his ornamented scabbard, he stumbled to the woods that lay behind the now ruined mansion. There the last of the Chagney line ended, its last surviving members lost in one fatal blow. The phantoms curse had finally taken toll.

/"Hold onto me love, you know I can't stay long, all I wanted to say was that "I love you", and that I'm not afraid.
Can you hear me? Can you feel me in your arms?"/

"ERIK!"
The scream rang threw the still house, buzzing off the decaying walls. He jerked awake, his eyes wide with alarm. Jumping up off the grimy couch that he'd made his bed, he flicked out the small blade that was hid in his sleeve. gradually creeping down the stairs, his cold eyes scanned the hushed room. Nothing. Frowning he wondered if indeed he had gone insane, when he suddenly saw a flash of white in the next room. Narrowing those golden orbs he rapidly, but noiselessly, moved across the room, into the entrance where he'd seen the intruder. He stopped dead in astonished horror when he saw who it was.
There, looking as angelic as ever, stood Christine. Her soft eyes captured him even from across the gap that separated them, her long curls tumbling down in untamed masses across her bare neck and shoulders. She was in the dress she's left him in , the lace and peal gown he had especially made for her. But he remembered it getting torn, and soaked.. where was the water stains? The rips? But that didn't matter now. Tears in his eyes he could only utter one word before he dashed across the room.

/"Holding my last breath, safe inside myself, are all my thoughts of you, sweet rapture and light, it ends here tonight.
I miss the winter, a world of fragile things.
Look for me in the white forest, hiding in a hallow tree –can you find me?-
I know you hear me, I can taste it in your tears.."/

"Christine!"
He was almost to her, his arms opened wide when she threw up her hands, her eyes open with fear. Shaking her head put one hand in front, wordlessly commanding him to stop. He stood there, baffled. She only sighed a bit, though no sound came from those lips, and held out her hand. In the tiny white palm lay a small gold band, plain but extraordinary in its straightforwardness. It was the ring he'd given her after her first performance, the ring that was supposed to have sealed her to him. He thought she lost it.. with a trembling hand he reached out and took it form her. He drew back in shock when there hands brushed. She was freezing cold. She smiled desolately. His eyes widened when he realized what must have happened. His little song bird was dead, she becoming the ghost he'd been all his life.

/"Closing your eyes to disappear, you pray your dreams will leave you here,
but still you wake and know the truth, no ones there.
Say goodnight don't be afraid, calling me, calling me as you fade to light…"/

Tears flooded down his cheeks and he reached out to cup her pallid, to white, cheek. She was like ice, a perfect porcelain doll made of frost. She closed her eyes, as if savoring his touch , then drew back, her form shimmering with a bizarre illumination. She was leaving.
"Don't leave me Christine, not again.." his strangled plea cut threw the quiet room. She only shook her head, her lips forming three last words as her body began to completely vanish.
"I love you."
Then she was gone. Weeping he fell to his knees, cradling the only things he had left in this world.. his mask, and Christine's ring.

/"Holding my last breath, safe inside myself, are all my thoughts of you?
Sweet rapture and light, it ends here tonight. -say goodnight-
Calling me, calling me…. "/

--this was a song fic, intertwining both song and story. The lyrics were form a group called Evanescence, the song titles were; Taking Over Me, Imaginary, and My Last Breath.--