"The Artist is stabbed in his side with a dagger and finds himself in a room with Annabel holding a dagger in hand. From here on the story's point of view switches from The Artist to Annabel where she explains that The Artist had slowly been sinking into madness all this while, as he became more and more withdrawn and his sketches more and more violent. Though she loved him, in the end she had to take his life in the attempt to defend herself from him."

"The Artist finds his feet and trudges back out into the sunlit town. He rounds the corner and once again sees Annabel in the reflection of a window. However, this time she does not look angry or sad. She doesn't appear to him as the tortured and pained image he saw in the bar, but rather as the woman he had fallen so in love with during the past seven years. Suddenly, the Thespian appears in the reflection, standing behind Annabel with a knife to her throat. Fear engulfs her entire body as the Thespian slits her throat from ear to ear. The horrific image alerts the Artist of two things equally disturbing and harsh: the memory of Annabel is slowly disappearing from his mind and he must find and kill the man who has taken her from him."

"As badly as the Artist wants to believe that the girl who seemingly appeared out of thin air is Annabel, he knows in his heart that she is not. Despite this crushing realization, he is taken by her beauty and her sudden emergence in the alley where he was slowly dying. The mystery woman takes him in and cares for him, nursing him back to health. After several days of silence, she whispers to him, "I'll be your anchor, I'll be your lover. " It is at this very second that he knows that she is indeed his Annabel after all. He leans in to kiss her soft lips, which sends him face first into the cobblestone of the alley in which he knelt. Awakened from his dream, the Artist is once again pained with the realization that his lover is gone."

"Finding it nearly impossible to come to grips with the emergence and confession of the Thespian, the Artist gives up on his fleeting fantasy that Annabel could still be alive. Without his vengeance, his anger, his insanity and without the chance of Annabel coming back from the dead, he attempts to decipher a way to join her in death. With thoughts of suicide on his mind, the Artist contemplates storming the town with a rage unmatched by anyone. He must draw out the Thespian to die heroically as he avenges the death of his lover. Wandering the town as the feeling of defeat weakens his every step, the Artist falls to his knees in an abandoned alley. Mere seconds before his plan comes to fruition, she appears."

"As the sun sets, the Artist cannot seem to escape his own imagination. Completely lost in self-indulgence, he begins to see Annabel's face everywhere. The visions of her usher his wandering, delusional thoughts back to the day when he first fell in love with her. He soon becomes obsessed with the fantasy that she could possibly still be alive. The Artist scrambles home in a hastened fury only to be stopped dead in his tracks at his front porch by a man who introduces himself as the Thespian--the man who killed Annabel."

"Following the massacre and armed with a complete lack of guilt, the Artist finds a sick pleasure in the deception of his ways. He begins to feel invincible. Relishing his victory and overcome by his own satisfaction, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath as he ponders his own insanity. The Artist fantasizes about Annabel's voice and questions whether her love could save him from what he's become. He snaps and curses all who thinks he will even consider stopping now."

"The Artist finally makes it into town and, at least for the time being, sheds the haunting voice of Annabel. He wanders past a tavern to the sounds of laughter and drunken piano playing and becomes uncontrollably enraged. If he is not allowed to be happy, then no one shall be. The Artist enters the tavern and bolts the door shut behind him, unbeknownst to the patrons inside. His thoughts are racing, his adrenaline is pumping, and he takes a drink to steady his nerves. He glances up from his glass only to find a blood-covered, screaming Annabel in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar. He finishes his drink, stands up, approaches the poor soul closest to him and utters five macabre words: 'Are you ready to die?'"

"In an abashed state of mind, the Artist begins to blame Annabel for what he has obviously done to her: his depression and paranoia have turned to rage. He moves as quickly as his feet will carry him toward the center of town. Not only is he running from the grisly murder scene, but he's running from the ringing of Annabel's voice in his head. It's as if her spirit is chasing him, torturing what little sanity he has left. He cannot look her in the eyes, he knows it will weaken his anger and he simply cannot allow that to happen. Not now. The Artist begs and pleads with her to leave him be as he sprints toward the town, his intentions still unknown even in his own mind. There's one crippling thought that the Artist cannot seem to escape even in madness: Annabel is the only girl he has ever loved."

"The Artist, overwhelmed with panic and paranoia, is convinced that he is being watched and that someone somewhere knows what he's done. Just the sight of Annabel's body begins to blur the lines of fantasy and reality. He controls the urge to run and leans down to kiss her one final time, closing her eyes with the gentle touch of his blood-soaked fingertips. His tortured goodbye plagues his mind and allows the madness to come pouring back with a vengeance. The Artist accepts his fate, hides the body and sets out into the night."

"The dawn is approaching the small town of Slough in England during the year 1898. A local sketch artist, known to us simply as "the Artist, " lies in a bed next to the woman of his dreams, "Annabel. " As the first rays of sunlight pour through the window, he rolls over to wake his lover with a kiss. Her cold lips reveal a lifeless body once so beautiful. His one and only love has been murdered and nothing is what it seems. When it is revealed to him whose hands may be responsible, he begs for the whole thing to be a horrible nightmare."