The Masque of the Red Death: An Alternate Ending
The heavy doors of the dank castle clanged shut and Prospero’s servants welded them in place. All thousand guests were entombed with no possible way to escape. The pall of the reality outside the castle pervaded everyone’s minds and hearts. To lighten the mood, Prospero planned a masquerade ball for all thousand guests. This ball was to be the most elegant and extensive the kingdom had ever seen.
The day of the ball finally arrived and all of the guests were excited but anxious. The ballroom was lit by a thousand candles representing the thousand guests. Embellished tables were spread with exotic food and drink. The walls were draped in black and red silk curtains that rustled with eerie sighs as the doors to the ballroom swung open and the guests entered.
The disguises were both varied and elaborate. Most guests had intentionally avoided even a hint of the red death, but one particular woman seemed to epitomize it instead. She was dressed in a slick, red ball gown with a solid black mask. Her intentions were not so apparent. Lenore, as the guests knew her, planned to woo Prospero and save both their lives with her elixir against the red death. The dilemma was that there was only enough of the potion for two people.
As the violins and harps began playing, Lenore made her way across the ballroom and curtsied to Prospero. He had no choice but to ask her to dance. She leaned in as close as she possibly could without touching him and whispered that she intended to save his life. This got Prospero’s attention and made his mind race. What could this seductive creature offer besides a moment’s distraction from the death and destruction raging outside the castle walls? Lenore quickly put Prospero’s worries to rest. She pulled a small vial from the folds of her red ball gown and secretly showed it to Prospero. Immediately he ascertained her intentions. He gently pulled her toward the black room and instructed his servants to prevent anyone else from entering.
The red glow from the blood- tainted windows seemed to bring the spectre of the red death into the room with them. The only hope for life was contained in the vial that Lenore held tightly in her small, sweaty hand. Suddenly, an earth-shattering noise emanated from the rest of the castle. Somehow, the outer doors had been blasted open by the howling wind. As this wind reached each guest, they pitched forward and were bleeding from every orifice before they hit the floor.
Within the black walls of the black room, Prospero and Lenore knew that the red death had violated the safety of the castle. The red death had infiltrated all rooms in the castle except for the black room. Prospero reached for the vial, but Lenore had other intentions. She whirled around, the red dress swirling frantically. Quickly she pulled the stopper from the bottle and drained it into her mouth. Then the door to the black room slowly opened and the wind, now hardly more than a breeze, floated over both Prospero and Lenore. Prospero’s blood began leaving his body as he gazed questioningly into Lenore’s eyes. Standing tall and arrogant, Lenore watched Prospero’s life oozing away as he slid to the floor. Then Lenore bewitchingly pronounced, “And now Prince Prospero, I shall be the mistress of this castle!”