The Match©2006

By Phantasmarose

Disclaimer: I lay no claim to any of the original POTO characters such as Erik, Christine, Meg, Raoul, and Madame Giry. These belong to Leroux, Kay, and ALW. The settings outside the lair and all original characters to this story belong to me.

A/N: This story is based on the ALW 2004 movie with elements of Kay. It is an alternative ending.

Chapter 1

Pawn to King's level 4

"Take her!" He heard the Creature roar. Raoul couldn't hear anything else as he strained against his ties. Christine ran to him and helped him get the ropes loose. They were free!

The Creature had left them and gone back into his cave. Raoul would save Christine from this Hell. He had almost died a few minutes before at the hands of the Creature and now Raoul was taking his prize home. Luck was on his side again, he would win. He was used to winning.

In desperation and rage at his impotence to keep her, Erik broke almost every mirror in his bedroom. Finally, he went to the last mirror in his room and broke through revealing a hidden passageway. This was his escape from his sins, his past, and his tormentors. He looked long down the dark passageway, but all he could see was an endless darkness. With even greater sadness than before he turned away from it.

He passed a chess table he had made out of a single piece of burled oak. Erik picked up a carnelian Knight and examined it for imperfections. He found none. It had taken him over six months to carve each piece out of the red and black stones. He and Nadir had started this game on the Persian's last visit to the lair. Casually, Erik replaced the knight in its new position near the obsidian King. "Check," he said thinking how much it would irk Nadir to lose again; a hint of a smile escaped his misery.

Slowly he made his way to his monkey music box and plopped down on the floor in front of it. All of a sudden all the rage left him. He felt drained of love and hate, of anger and hope…of life. He sat up on his hunches and sang along with his old companion. "Paper faces on parade…" He half smiled as the monkey clashed his cymbals. Erik's face slowly turned toward the entrance where the first rumblings of the mob could be heard. He had come to a decision. He pushed himself off the floor and dragging himself to his cupboard, extracted a simple wooded box. Taking the box with him, he sat on the bed's edge. Why had he let her go? If at least he had the conviction of his actions but he wasn't sure. It was a spur of the moment decision. It had suddenly occurred to him that he, Erik, would never be able to make her happy, that he did not deserve her, that in the end he would fail. His Christine deserved so much more than some poor deformed creature that had only his unfathomable love to give.

Her eyes told him that she loved him. That he was certain about that. Christine's kiss had wiped away all of his hatred and vindictiveness. The boy could take her away but he would not have her love. Christine was his. At last, she was his as he had always dreamed. Then instead of pulling her into his arms, he shattered in front of her, sobbing uncontrollably. It was his first kiss ever, from anyone and it overwhelmed him. He could see the confusion in her loving eyes but he couldn't stop himself. He was confused as well; there were too many thoughts in his head. His genius mind betrayed him by coming up with every possible outcome of this action of hers. He needed time to put all his thoughts together and he needed to do it alone. There was no time and so he panicked and made the decision. He let her go. He told the boy to take her, as he would have told him to take away his books, clothes or some other replaceable item. Covering his afflicted face with his hands, he let the tears slip between his fingers. Christine, I failed you. You chose me and I failed you.

A loud sob jerked from his lips. Erik opened the box to reveal the morphine ampoules and syringe. Another old friend! With fluid movements due to years of experience, he filled the syringe, pulled the strap tightly around his forearm, and injected the substance into his arm. My choice! He didn't mind dying, most of his life he had welcomed the thought, but if he were to die it would be his decision and he would be in control. Erik would not allow himself to be exhibited, humiliated, tied up, and ultimately beaten to death by a mob of brutes. They could do what they wanted to his body but he would deny them the pleasure of seeing him suffer. With this thought, Erik drew the liquid from another ampoule and injected another full syringe into his arm. There, that should be enough to do the deed. Almost immediately, he began to relax. The Phantom of the Opera would perish by his own hand with the taste of his beloved on his lips. Erik smiled at the thought that his lips were no longer virginal. She had kissed his lips and he was unmasked! Oh Christine! His mind began to drift to his first days in the underground caverns before he had made them into a home. He had nearly starved until he'd found a food source…and she kissed him full on the mouth more than once…she even caressed his face ...Christine! Mm. Giry would be so upset…He would remain her Angel of music…soft, soft lips…she kissed him…and touched his face…