The porcelain mask was as cold as ice when Christine's fingers gripped and tugged it away for the opera house to see. The Phantom cried out, but it wasn't the anguish in his voice that upset her. The betrayal in his eyes was like a dagger in her chest.

Christine had been able to see the deformity around his mouth even with his mask, but without it and the wig he always wore the full extent was revealed. It reached back beyond his hairline. Parts of his skull looked almost as though they were cracked open. The ash colored, puckering scars sprung from the top of his head and wove down toward his cheek.

Off stage she could see Raoul trying to reach her before the inevitable. Just as she'd told him he would, time and time again, The Phantom gripped her arm and in a puff of smoke and illusion, they were gone. Crying out in frustration the viscount sprinted forward, only to find the settling fog. He ran his fingers through his light brown hair trying desperately not to panic.

She had known this would happen. Christine had asked- no begged him not to put her through this.

"He'll take me, I know. We'll be parted forever. He won't let me go."

Ripping his jacket off he rolled up his sleeves, preparing to go after them. Raoul knew he would do whatever it took to get her back.

The grip on her arm was merciless as the man dragged her down again. She tried to remember the wonder and amazement she had felt the first time he'd led her by the hand. The warmth was gone, replaced by the monster that everyone claimed the Phantom was.

It had confused her at first. He'd seemed brilliant and impossible the first time she truly saw her angel. She had wondered why he'd been exiled below in the depths. Now she saw the crazed look in his eyes. With each glance back at her his face was more and more drawn. His humanity seemed to drain with every step they took down into the catacombs of the opera house.

"You once asked me why I was bound and chained here. Why was I left to the prison of my mind?" tugging her to a stop in front of him the man who had taught her for so long looked at her with such anger that she shrunk away in fear, "Because of my face! Not for any crime or sin, because of people like you!"

"I trusted you." She whispered in a shaking voice.

Glancing back the way they came the sound of a search party was loud over their heads. They had found the body of the actor he'd killed. They needed to move or risk discovery.

His voice surprised her when he choked out, "Met with hatred… everywhere. Never any compassion."

Her heart ached for him despite everything he'd done to her. His eyes were sad when they locked onto her and he asked, "Christine… why?"

Lip quivering as though she wanted to answer him she knew it would fall on deaf ears. He wouldn't be able to understand.

Shaking her violently his harsh voice thundered through the catacombs as he said again, "WHY?"

He didn't wait for a response. Instead he continued the drag though the stone halls. In her heart she knew she would never see the sun again. She was lost forever in a world with no more light.