France is known for its food, architecture, and as a place for Romance. Bringing balance to this country was one of their own, Sorrel, a Frenchman who writes horror novels. Capturing what he saw playing out in his mind’s eye into recorded stories came naturally to him. Scared readers could testify how his written words provoked a lingering belief that threats remained nearby although they finished reading his book weeks ago. As powerfully addictive as anything this world has to offer, these residual feelings kept readers coming back for more. Pressure to outdo his last novel, Sorrel, too, had become addicted to his own work. Negative experiences in his life had darkened the lens of his mind’s eye—blackened as if coated by hell’s infernal ashes. Perhaps, this made it harder for him to see the stories coming through, but whatever the reason, materializing those images in his imagination and bringing them to life seemed a reasonable thing to do. Just how far would he go? Having scenes acted out in a performance while he wrote? Carried out in real life with equally real consequences? No writer would have the audacity to stage a scene to capture it on the page. Surely, Sorrel wouldn’t. Or would he?