Super Trick or Treat System

She said: "Let's see what you look like." His hand was on his cheek before he stopped her, and her smile dissipated with her attack. She thought that this was what he wanted, but it was too late to regret or apologize. Her fingertips found the line of the mask on the edge of the eye socket, and then bent to hold it better. She yanked. The thin veil of latex disappeared, and his true face was seen by the world. Diane tried to step back, but his hand was in her hair. All she can do is lift that fleshless face. Several withered muscles were bent, and a beard hung from the leather flap of his throat, but all the living tissue had long rotted. Most of his face is just bones: soiled and worn.

The skull said: "I am not." Not like Constantia. "

Diana escaped explanation. She did not protest, and the scene will definitely prove that this is reasonable. When he held her hands tightly, all she could call out was a wailing, and he pulled her head back.

Lichfield said: "Sooner or later we have to make a choice. Between serving ourselves and serving the arts, his breath does not smell like chocolate, but is deeply rotten."

She doesn't quite understand.

"The dead must choose more carefully than the living. If you can forgive this sentence, then we can't waste our breath instead of enjoying the purest pleasure. I think you don't want art. Do you?"

She shook her head, hoping this was the expected result.

"You want physical life, not imagined life. You might have it."

"Thank you."

"If you want enough, you might have it."

Suddenly, his hand pulled her hair so painfully, he was propped behind his head and raised his lips to greet him. At that time, she would scream because his rotten mouth was pressed against her, but his greeting was so persistent that she held her breath.

Ryan spotted Diane on the floor of the locker room a few minutes before two. It is difficult to figure out what happened. There are no signs of any wounds on her head or body, and no death. She seems to be in some sort of coma. She may have slipped and bumped her head when she fell. Whatever the reason, she is working hard.

They were several hours before the final rehearsal. They were in an ambulance and were taken to the intensive care unit.

Hammersmith said: "The sooner they knock down this place, the better." He has been drinking during office hours, something Galloway has never seen before. The whiskey bottle is standing on the table with the half full glass. A glass sign sounded on his account, and his hands shook violently.

"What's the news from the hospital?"

"She is a beautiful woman," he said, staring at the glass. Galloway could have sworn he was on the verge of tears. "Hammersmith? How is she?"

"She is in a coma. But her condition is stable."

"That's what I think."

Hammersmith stared at Galloway, raising his eyebrows angrily.

"You're short," he said, "you're lying to her, aren't you? I like myself that way, don't you? Well, let me tell you something, Diane Duval is worth a dozen.

"That's why you let this final work go on, Hammersmith? Because you have seen her and want your little hand on her?"

"You won't understand. Your brain is in your pants." Galloway's admiration for Miss Duval made him look really angry.

"Well, whatever you want. We still don't have violas."

"That's why I want to cancel," Hammersmith said, slowing down and savoring the moment.

It must come. Without Diana Duval, there would be no Twelfth Night. Maybe this is better. Knock on the door.

"Who the **** is that?" Hammersmith said softly. "Come."

It's Lichfield. Galloway was almost happy to see that strange, scarred face. Although he has a lot of questions for Lichfield, about the state where he left Diana and their conversations together, this is not an interview he is willing to conduct in front of Hammersmith. In addition, any form of accusation that he might have been present was opposed by the man. If Litchfield tried to use violence against Diane for any reason, is he likely to come back so quickly and smile so quickly?

"Who are you?" Hammersmith demanded.

"Richard Walden Lichfield".

"I'm not wise."

"I used to be the trustee of Elysium."

"Oh."

"I do my thing-" "What do you want?" Hammersmith barged in, annoyed at Lichfield's composure. "I heard that the product is in danger," Lichfield replied calmly.

"There is no danger," Hammersmith said, allowing himself to twitch at the corner of his mouth. "There is no danger at all because there is no show. It has been cancelled."

"Oh?" Litchfield looked at Galloway.

"Does this have your consent?" he asked.

"He has nothing to say about this; if circumstances permit, I have the only right of cancellation; this is his contract. The theater has been closed so far: it will not reopen."

"Yes," Litchfield said.

"What?" Hammersmith stood behind the table, and Galloway realized that he had never seen the man standing there. He is short.

"We will play "Twelve Nights" as advertised," Lichfield said. "My wife has agreed to study viola in place of Miss Duvall."

Hammersmith laughed and the butcher laughed. However, since the office was full of lavender and it died on his lips, Constance Lichfield walked into her entrance, gleaming with silk and fur. She looked as perfect as the day she died: even Hammersmith held his breath and was silent.

Lichfield announced: "Our new viola."

After a while, Hammersmith found the voice. "This woman can't tell after half a day." "Why not?" Galloway said, without looking away from the woman. Lichfield is a lucky man. Constantia is an extraordinary beauty. He hardly dared to breathe in front of her because he was worried that she would disappear.

Then she spoke. The line comes from the first act of Act 5: "If nothing can make us both happy. But, this is my masculine usurped costume. Don’t hug me in every situation. Regardless of location, time, wealth, cohesion and A sense of jumping. I am a viola."

The voice is light and musical, but it seems to reverberate in her body, making each phrase full of suppressed passion.

That face. It comes alive and interprets her speech story with subtle economic effects. She is charming.

"I'm sorry," Hammersmith said, "but there are rules and regulations for this sort of thing. Is she a stock?" "No," Litchfield said.

"Well, it's impossible. The union strictly prohibits this kind of thing. They will keep us alive." "How does this affect you, Hammersmith?" Galloway said. "What the **** do you care? Once this place is demolished, you never need to set foot in the theater again."

"My wife watched the rehearsal. She spoke perfectly."

Galloway said: "This may be a magical thing." "You risk Galloway at the risk of the league," Hammersmith rebuked.

"I will take a risk."

"As you said, it's nothing to me. But if a bird tells them, you will have eggs on your face." "Hammersmith: Give her a chance. Give us all a chance. If the stock It frustrates me, that's my attention." Hammersmith sat down again.

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