Erik stood on the shore, staring at the lake. Somewhere there was Christine, somewhere was the Siren who had plagued him these past days. He stared at the depths of the dark water, gazing into the endless darkness. Her song was still there.
The water was so black. He had never thought it dark before. Once golden candelabras had risen from it. Now the only thing that would rise from it was the silvery figure of the Siren.
He saw his gondola still docked there, ready for him to ride upon it to his chosen destination. He imagined that night, Christine sitting there, gazing at everything around her wide-eyed, singing as he rowed, gliding near-effortlessly through the water. The one night when he was truly and purely happy. It was over now.
For no reason that he could understand, Erik stepped into the gondola. He took the oar in his hand and began to glide across the lake. The lake was smooth, glassy. The surface was undisturbed except for the movement of his boat. He could almost imagine that there was nothing beneath those waters.
Then he realized what had been unsettling him. The singing had disappeared. He was grateful, but also sorrowed, for his thoughts and mind had been bound up in the singing, that there was nothing else to life.
Then, he heard it again. This time it was more hauntingly beautiful then ever before. He let go of the oar, and let the boat drift as he listened in ecstasy to the music. The boat drifted against the rocks. Erik hardly had time to think before he was plunged into the icy water.
The last thing he remembered was falling into darkness before he lay in the cold arms of his beloved once again.