Erik dragged the sobbing girl out to the shore of the lake.
"Please Angel, do not do this to me!" she cried. "I know that I should not have betrayed you like that, but you know that I am always yours, please, forgive me!"
Her pleas fell on deaf ears. Once Erik might have heeded her, might have said that if she had learned her lesson then she might go, if she never did it again. But no more. His pain when she had pledged her love to the Vicomte de Changy was too terrible, he could no longer forgive her each time she angered him.
It was her fault that he was hunted down, her fault that all knew of his presence. He loved her, he could not live without her – but he could not live with her either. He needed that voice, needed that angelic voice – but the woman to whom it belonged was destroying him.
Christine knelt at his feet, pleading, "Angel, do not cast me from you! You are all I have, why do you do this to me? I know that I went against you, but I knew no better. Please, do not make me leave you."
Her words only served to harden Erik's heart. He said, his soft voice nonetheless carrying across the lake, resonating in Christine's mind. "You will never have to leave me." And with that he pushed her into the lake.
She slipped, her feet finding no hold on the smooth stones. And she fell, into the dark waters through which she had once been carried, under his spell, into his world. She floundered in the murky waters from which candles had once sprouted. The waters engulfed her, dragging her down, demanding that she belong to them.
Christine Daae could not swim. In a matter of minutes her thrashing was over and there was silence. Pure silence. Silence such as Erik has had too much of. But not for long. Soon a silvery figure slipped out from the water. She began to sing. The angelic voice of Christine Daae once again filled the lake. Erik turned away, satisfied.
This lake had needed a siren.