When a man wants something enough, he does not push through a sense of pain.  The pain, rather, ceases to exist.  Today, as Nicholas attempted to revive Eve with the disturbing complicity of Miss Evans, I knew that my life was to change.

I was helping, and I recalled standing above that table that once held Jeff Clark.  I recalled the oaths sworn there.  But then, with that, came the sinking knowledge that I had continued to threaten and bully my dearest friends to serve my ends.  These are not the actions of a Collins.  Not the brand of which I was raised to know.

As Maggie screamed on the table and as Nicholas attempted to freeze me in place, I knew that this was the moment.  It was the moment of my death.  Nicholas would kill me before he would allow me to ruin his plans with Eve.  Adam, in many ways, might have been more of a relief to replace than Eve.  Thus, I risked all.  I destroyed the equipment.  I knew that I would go to my inevitable death having left the world with one fewer cruelty, and that is a death to be relished.

It did not come.  Nicholas fled, and I chased him long enough to see him plead with his dark master.  He was as pathetic as a scolded schoolboy.  And so unlike a schoolboy, he was consumed by a fire that caused me not pain, but euphoria.  It was a flame that ended Nicholas, and if it ended Nicholas, it ended Angelique.  And with them away from my world, I know a sensation that I have never felt, even in my youth, as I was groomed to succeed my father.

What is the new sensation?  It is the sensation of freedom.

I intend to make the most of it.  Whatever happens from this point forward is because I choose it.

My journey begins.

My name is Barnabas Collins.  All else is unwritten, at long last.



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