I don't know how long I was buried alive. It felt like days; it may have only been minutes. Time had no meaning for me in my own private hell. My body was paralyzed by the muscle relaxant Andi gave me, but my mind was fully aware and racing at breakneck speed. You don't go through an experience like that unchanged. Some people might resolve to live a better life. I am not one of those.

The night of the carnival, the night they showed their true colors, I was the harlequin. The wise fool, the one filled with youthful exuberance as she sets out on adventure. The harlequin is also a façade, a manic mask to hide heartache or bitterness. Last night, as I lay in my coffin, I turned that image in my mind, and became one with my masque. Andi sought to teach me a lesson, but she will be surprised when she realizes what I learned down there. I waved good-bye to a few more shreds of my sanity. My humanity? My compassion? Andi buried those. When The Harlequin is turned loose, Dead End can thank Andi for the new horrors unleashed upon the city.