Dorian Gray Alternate Ending

WARNING POSSIBLE PLOT CLUES:

He looked round, and saw the knife that had stabbed Basil Hallward. He had cleaned it many times, till there was no stain left upon it. It was bright, and glistened. As it had killed the painter, so it would kill the motivator, Lord Henry. Dorian bound the knife with his handkerchief and pocketed it. He ran downstairs and sent his servant on an errand to invite Lord Henry over with urgency.

The moon was full and high in the sky. The light shone through the upper windows casting shadows counter to those of the dimly candle lit room. Lord Henry entered the room Dorian was lingering in. “Welcome Henry. How do you do?”. But little opportunity was given for a reply, Dorian quickly interrupted himself, “My mind is so clouded at the moment. It is every thing the nights sky is not on this still night. Follow me, you must understand.”. He led him up to that dark secret room where he stored his most hated of treasures. “Look, look at what you have made me!”. Dorian yelled as he whipped away the curtain covering the painting and forced Henry in for a closer look.

Lord Henry gasped at what he saw. At first it seemed as if Dorian was showing him a painting of a crazed old man, but after a second glance he saw it was the one holding him so closely to this ugly face. Henry then noticed something not even Dorian had seen before, it was Henry's own face starting to show through the horrid man's features, like that of a possessed person. It was on noticing this that he felt a sudden cool feeling in his back, and saw blood starting to trickle on the floor. He had no breath left in him to exclaim anything more than deathly sigh.

Dorian released the knife dropping Lord Henry to the floor. As Henry's last breath was exhaled with a bubble of air boiling through his blood filled mouth, he looked up to see what Dorian was now starring at. As Henry transitioned into the next state of life the painting changed with his departure. Revealing itself over an awe inspiring minute the paint moulded itself to form a new image not seen on this canvas for decades, but a near perfect reflection of the man standing admiring it. A new feeling came over Dorian he had not felt since his child hood. One of innocence and purity. It was soon obvious that the murder of his long time mentor was the cleansing of the devil on his shoulder. He felt free of sin and his thoughts were rid of the murkiness that had filled it moments earlier. The moon light shone through the small window of the room. The light cast a shadow over the young looking man and a silhouette from the white cross of the window frame came over his body.