Francois rose slowly and pointed the wet end of his cigar in my direction. "I'm telling you…"
My fuse had been burned to the bottom. I lunged at him, grabbing a handful of his coat with my left hand and setting my right forearm hard across his miserable fat throat. I slammed him back against the wall as beads of sweat began to pop out on his face. The few dingy portraits jumped on their hangers. The offensive cigar fell to the floor and glowed, threatening to ignite the ancient, shredded carpeting.
"You will tell me nothing!" I snarled into his face. I had my own plans for bringing this disastrous situation to closure.
Erik, the former Phantom Of The Opera, has given up his cellars and malicious games in favor of one last, desperate attempt to find the acceptance he has always sought and never found. No longer alone and with an unfamiliar sensitivity struggling to surface, his efforts to rejoin life above the ground appear outwardly successful until his own past threatens to throw him once more into the fires of hell. His journey to the edge of that hell and back, twisted and strewn with obstacles, tests him in ways he could never have anticipated.
"I would finally be rewarded for all the years of humiliation and degradation that I had suffered. No one would stand in my way!"
No one…but Erik himself....Continua