Notes: So, the M content rating is going to make more sense as the chapters go on. A dark theme is suggested here, but I doubt that Erik will ever completely force himself on Christine, because I just don't know where I would take the story after that. I will start to stray a bit off of the original story at this point, but not change everything until later on.

Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera, but if I did Raoul would have died at the end. Enjoy!

Christine's head snapped up to look into his eyes. His expression was clouded with heavy emotions, and he pulled her closer. She pushed at his chest. "Stop, let me go." As if he had gone deaf right then and there, he didn't relax his muscles even a small amount. "Please… please… stop touching me!" She sobbed. He leaned next to her ear and whispered words of reassurance that he would never hurt her and that she was safe with him. Her mind was confused, and she couldn't make sense of what he was saying. She could only think of how trapped she felt, and how there was no way out of the cave that she could see besides the entrance through the lake. But, even if she were going to try to swim away, even if she were to take the boat, she had the nagging thought that he would undoubtedly catch her no matter what she tried.

"You don't know how much you mean to me…" he murmured, grasping her face while he lowered his. She paled, not sure of what he was attempting to do until his lips brushed over hers. She whimpered and he pressed closer, her body shaking.

"Please…" she jerked her face away from him to utter the words. "I don't want this with you. Who are you?" She gasped when he began to rip at the front of her dress, and tears sprung into the corner of her eyes. He caught her lips again, but this time his tongue swept into her mouth and danced with her own. She let out a muffled cry of outrage.

He drew his head back to take a breath. "I told you, I am Erik. You needn't be this frightened, Christine. I will not hurt you." One of his hands drove through her hair while the next fluttered over her breast. The tears slipped down her cheeks as he continued to hold her captive. His breath shook as he looked down at her, and she noticed that his eyes were completely glazed over. Her mind was foggy, and her eyes began to drift around the room as he touched more and more of her. Just as she was about to completely hand herself over to him, something caught the corner of her eye.

Christine remembered the leather mask. Inspecting it closer now, she saw how worn and old it was, for the string that attached itself to his face was fraying and weak. A burning curiosity filled her, yet she only gained the courage to act because of her desperation to separate herself from him. She relaxed into his chest lifted her face to leave a trail of kisses across the base of his jaw. His breath caught, and the grip he had on her slackened. She slowly lifted her arm to his face to curl her fingers around the piece of leather.

Erik stiffened immediately, his green eyes flying down to meet hers. His face contorted as if he were in pain. But it was too late. She grasped the mask and ripped it off of his face. She saw bits of decayed flesh and angry welts across half of his forehead before he pushed away from her, frantically covering up his face with his hand. Christine lost her balance from the sudden force and fell to the ground. She winced at a sharp pain that travelled up her spine.

She looked up at him, his back still facing her. He said nothing, but his breathing gradually increased and became more ragged, filling up the silence of the room. "Damn you!" He screeched at her. Christine jumped. His voice, which had always sounded so melodic, turned ugly and cracked. He turned around to look at her, and she froze. It almost seemed to her that fire was burning in his eyes. They were wide open and crazed, his pupils boggling around his head while he tried not to lash out at her. "You lying bitch." He hissed. He was trembling. "Did you really want to see me like this? The demon that everyone else sees me as? Are you satisfied?" He let out a breathy laugh, his hand still on his face, but doing little to cover it. "Now that you have seen my curse...I can't let you go." His smile was bitter. "Damn you."

Erik's lips quivered while he stared at her. "It is worse than you imagined it, isn't it? I am surprised that you haven't soiled yourself simply by looking at me." His mouth twisted into a snarl. "How can you think of me now? I'm no angel. I-" He broke off his next words to walk across the cave and sit down on the organ bench. He hunched his back and head so she couldn't see his face. When he flicked his eyes back to her, they were glittering with tears that he wouldn't let himself shed. "I'm only a demon, not your angel of music. I live in my own hell already." His voice was rough. "I could never begin to hope that I could get out of here. I want to go to heaven, I want to leave, but no one can know that… except you." He stood up and crouched behind her on the ground so she couldn't see his face. He gripped both of her hands, his breath hot against her ear.

"You may be afraid of me know, but I know you can learn to love me. You, and you alone can see me, and not just my face. And you will learn that I am not repulsive." His voice broke on the last word, and he could only force out a whisper. "I'm not a monster."

Christine wasn't completely sure who he was trying to convince when saying that line. Her heart tugged, and she leaned her head back onto his shoulder. He drew his arms around her protectively. She let him embrace her, knowing that no words she could say would even begin to comfort him. She was so tempted to just glance up at his face, to see how deformed it was, but she held herself back, and instead stood up and walked over to the cabinet. She could feel Erik staring into her back, tense, but she lifted the false bottom of the drawer, and drew out the white mask. Her angel's mask. She kept her gaze lowered to the ground as she walked over and handed it to him. He hesitated for a moment before gently grasping it and pulling it over his face. She waited for him to finish adjusting it when his fingers softly pushing her chin up. She looked at him once again. The expression behind his green eyes was raw, and his lips were parted. He seemed in awe of her. She saw that a few strands of his dark hair were out of place, so she lifted her hand and slowly smoothed it through his hair.

Erik didn't break her gaze, held captive by her. He felt undeniable vulnerability when he was near her. He had the raging desire to be close to her, as close as he could. He wanted to swallow her whole. He leaned forward a bit, his eyes drifting to her lips for a moment before looking back into her eyes. She had a closed off expression on her face, and she fidgeted, dropping her hand from his head. He stopped immediately, disappointment and rejection crashing over his head in waves. He couldn't continue to frighten her like this. He released a careful breath. "I am going to take you back up to the opera house. Those two buffoons running my theater are sure to be missing you."

He tried to ignore the pain in his chest when her eyes lit up at those words.