Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Thick smoke surrounded the area which made it difficult to see where you were, or where to go.
Thankfully, all those times spent loitering around the opera house with his lover gave Raoul an idea of the quickest paths to reach the outside. His breaths became quicker, and his strides heavier–it didn't help the fact that Christine needed urgent medical attention.
It was every man for himself in this situation. Noble or common, no one would help you in this panic. First, a warning from the Opera Ghost himself, and now a fallen Chandelier that quickly spread a fire all around.
If that damned Phantom loves her so much, why did he let this happen?
Raoul thought to himself as he took a quick glance at the grotesque figure he carried in his arms.
Red was seeping from the pink flesh that was dusted in ash. Some parts of the skin were loosely hanging off and had a blackened tinge to it, some areas were swollen, with fluids starting to build up to the surface.
The body in his arms would be unrecognizable, save for the fact that a portion of the right side of her body was relatively untouched, mainly the her face–Christine’s face to be exact.
Raoul wanted to cry, to scream out–but he had to ‘man up’ or so they say, if he wanted Christine to live. She was breathing at least, but he couldn't be too lenient, she could have inhaled a large amount of smoke, and either way she obviously needed a medic to care for her immediately.
The viscount continued to run to the exit, not paying any attention to anything other than obstacles that obstructed his path or to occasionally check on his lover. And because of this he failed to notice the shadow that followed them, that sped up when he did, stopped when he did. It followed them like a shadow and moved with absolute silence as any shadow would do.
It was a sudden fit of coughing from Christine that made Raoul stop again in his tracks.
“Christine!” he cried out.
“Christine!” came an echo from the shadows.
Raoul momentarily set Christine down and almost went to inspect where the voice came from, until her throat started to make more worrisome barks. Quickly signing the cross with his right hand, he prayed and scooped up his lover to continue the run.
It may have been because of the smoke, the exhaustion, anxiety and the duty of carrying another adult that made Raoul confused and tired, not remembering which direction to go, or where he was.
That was when a voice so heavenly spoke to him.
“Turn left.” the voice said. And without a word, he followed its command, carrying Christine along with him.
Raoul faced a blocked path, with fire spreading around.
“Move straight towards the fire” the voice commanded again.
“No…that is one thing I can not follow!” Raoul replied with defeat and exhaustion, tears starting to form at the corner of his eyes.
“I said to move! Do not worry about the fire!”
The viscount looked again at the fire, and saw a dark figure which quickly vanished. He looked at the direction from which it vanished, and nothing was there. He then looked back at the fire to see a path that was not there before. Raoul could have sworn that that area had also been covered in flames, but he couldn't care any less and decided it must have been the trick of the light.
He held Christine closer to his chest as he ran through the wet carpet, and he soon began to cough.
“Now turn to your right, and you will see light” the voice reappeared, this time sounding more urgent. Again, Raoul followed.
He turned to the direction where the voice had led him, and saw a door, where outside were the familiar roads and the people that surrounded it. Raoul let out an exhausted smile, with joyous tears streaming down his face as he used all his remaining strength to sprint towards it.
Fresh air slapped him in the face and the noise of people in hysteria filled the air. All the exhaustion that was put aside had finally caught up to Raoul and he felt his knees buckle under his and Christine’s weight.
“I am going to collapse” he thought, as he shifted his weight and fell backwards, his back hitting the stone tiles, and his chest cushioning Christine.