It took an enormous amount of effort on Westley's part not to smash the bathroom mirror. When he closed his eyes, not only could he hear Doris and Eric screwing, but his mind played an X-Rated picture show behind his eyes. The only thing that he could think to do to make it go away was to hurt himself.
After rummaging through the bathroom, he finally found a straight razor. He put it to his arm and drew several harsh, red lines. Blood oozed from the cuts, ran down his arms, and slowly dripped onto the sink – and as he stared at his face in the mirror, his Gerald persona was put to bed.
Westley looked at the cuts, and he was numb to the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain he felt over losing Doris. He wanted to confront the old Gates, but he knew that he needed to play for time. Onl……
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