The Arrival:
Noah Vasser
The early morning hours had passed as sluggishly as those of the mid-afternoon. Day after day, the work had continued; and, for a while, Noah had been contented with the circumstances of hard labor. He would scale the ladders mindlessly, prying and hammering loose or broken boards, applying fresh wall-paper in an attempt to make the rather large theatre somewhat more uninviting than the run-down form it had taken. The idea of help had crossed his mind more than once, but ever slightly paranoid, he feared for those who entered the theatre. He still hadn't discovered how he was going to arrange performances with the book confiscating the center of the stage.
'Maybe you could build another one?', Simba had quirked a brow while chomping on a piece of jerky. His tail had been lashing, and his head as poised as ever - the image had been instilled within Noah's mind. He could see it clearly. The attitude, that regal expectedness having failed to pass.
Despite being such a condescending youth, the boy was right - and building another stage or renovating a few of the rooms was perhaps his only option if he wanted the audience to be safe. Yet, he believe there were other options, and bursts of ignorant bliss or last minute, stressful decisions were not beyond Noah's usual process. The early evening had settled in, and the cold air of winter had found its ways through the open lobby doors, and through the open windows and vents. Bundled and huffing, Noah had strode the empty hall, clean and tidy for once. All of its visits had slowed down the process, but the path was finally completed, and in as stunning a manner as a young man of Noah's stature could accomplish. The rich red carpeting, the well designed and swirled wallpaper, sepia and earthy. It was certainly an alluring matter, but, still ... It belonged to the doors - and as Noah had reached the end of the hallway, he had cracked the door open to peek inside alone and wearily.
There had been no new incidents within the passing weeks. Noah was beginning to wonder if something were wrong, and, while he was elated and relieved inside, there was a twisting feeling within his stomach. The cold air was heavy, and the book seemed to be lodged with its angst. It laid splayed out over the stage, its pages mindlessly, aimlessly turning as if it were distracted or reminiscing. Noah had watched only a while before the doors had closed in front of him, the massive structure nearly capturing his hand in the frenzy.
Moody. How a book could be so moody was beyond his comprehension, but as he touched the handle, he found the door would not budge - which had only solidified the idea that the book was more than some enchanted artifact.
With a heavy sigh, Noah had nudged the door with his foot. A scowl had been given as he made his way back through the hall to the refined lobby, which had acquired a series of new furnishings from some unknown benefactor. The walls had been lined with the sepia paper, but settled atop them the luxurious paintings of artists long passed, all of theatrics - and the chairs themselves appeared to hold a theatrical over-tone, or at least one of higher standing than Noah would have been able to afford on his own. A small table, a rich, dark wooden desk, and even and old, antique cash registered had entered the scenery.
Noah appreciated such gifts, but they had become as mundane as the long days. As per usual, he sank into one of the large chairs, dragging his legs up and curling somewhat as if he were intending to take a nap to pass the dreary boredom that seemed to plague the poor theatre.
Little did he know, that nearly forgotten chill of an ominous approach had made the room even colder.
Tempest Vernum
It had arrived in a pile of bills and advertisements, the curious playbill that now plagued Mary’s mind. At first it had brought Mary a bit of familiarity, a reminder of all the good times she had watching her dork of a brother perform up on the stage, the lights intensifying his happiness. But now her bookstore kept her so busy, she couldn’t even dream of taking a day to the theatre. So Mary had simply place the bill on her hall table and went back to her grown-up life as an actual businesswoman.
It took a few hours, but then the curiousness of the playbill hit her. Who would be sending her a playbill? What was the point? How did they even get her address? But then a customer came in and she was forced to shove the thoughts to the back of her mind.
Mary continued to try to ignore it, but try as she might; the playbill was always there in her mind.
The next morning was the same way; the playbill just seemed to taunt Mary, trying to provoke her into action. It worked.
“Peter, you’re in charge, don’t break anything, and try to make sure no one steals anything, okay?” She called to her employee once she finally made up her mind. She didn’t even give him a chance before she ran up the backstairs to her upstairs apartment. She grabbed her giant black hole of a purse and shoved the annoying playbill into it. She quickly ran her fingers through her short, purple hair and checked up on her make-up before she headed down the stairs once more.
“Call my cell if there are any issues,” were her last words as she exited the store and stepped out into the world to be greeted by the cold.
Mary instantly regretted her clothing choice once she was out. Clad only in a thin long-sleeve shirt underneath a Children of Bodom t-shirt and ripped jeans that were more rips than jeans was a poor choice considering the winter chill. But it was too late now, she was already halfway there, to turn back would just be counter-productive.
When Mary finally arrived in front of the old theater, she took a moment to take it in. She hadn’t been to a theatre in forever and she felt almost ashamed that it took a weird little playbill that just appeared the day before to get her to go out again. But there was nothing she could do about that now, so Mary took a deep breath of the crisp, cold air and opened the door.
“Hello?”
Noah Vasser
The humdrum clattered of the faulty heater echoed throughout the lobby. The swirling sputter of heat was enough to provide a brief aide for comfort, but, in the scheme of things, Noah found himself feeling rather numb so close to the door. He would shift back and forth, rolling about the chair in his huddled mass - as if he were a small, unexpectant, or at least somewhat stupid child. It had never occurred to him to move away from the door, no matter how strong the draft became.
Perhaps there was an allure to the lobby and the chairs. He felt glued to them, as if the room had willed him to stay rather than leap up to find something to do. He was only too happy to oblige; his energy was spent, and the fact that the doors to the auditorium had been shut and locked was not a source of inspiration to work on things any longer. And so he laid, squirming and shifting as the draft chilled his bones.
A surprise awaited him, however, with the increase of the frigid air. The lobby door had creaked, and from them a person had appeared to slink inside. At once, Noah had jumped. The startle had been enough to, clumsily, knock him out of his seat - and with a nervous face he had scrambled to try and get a holding on himself. A person? What was a person doing? Oh, perhaps they were looking for a functional theatre? Certainly so! It had to be! Yet, the draft kept coming, and the creak of the rafters wreaked of a hungry demon.
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
Perhaps there was an allure to the lobby and the chairs. He felt glued to them, as if the room had willed him to stay rather than leap up to find something to do. He was only too happy to oblige; his energy was spent, and the fact that the doors to the auditorium had been shut and locked was not a source of inspiration to work on things any longer. And so he laid, squirming and shifting as the draft chilled his bones.
A surprise awaited him, however, with the increase of the frigid air. The lobby door had creaked, and from them a person had appeared to slink inside. At once, Noah had jumped. The startle had been enough to, clumsily, knock him out of his seat - and with a nervous face he had scrambled to try and get a holding on himself. A person? What was a person doing? Oh, perhaps they were looking for a functional theatre? Certainly so! It had to be! Yet, the draft kept coming, and the creak of the rafters wreaked of a hungry demon.
"Can I help you, ma'am?"
Tempest Vernum
It had felt like trespassing when Mary walked into the quiet theatre, the uncertainty of the situation was finally hitting her. She had left her job to follow a playbill to a seemingly empty theatre. Thoughts of traps and kidnapping murder plots quickly ran through her head until finally the words spoken drifted to her ears.
With a snap of her head she turned her attention to the speaker, “Oh,” Her voice cracked in surprise as her heartbeat calmed down. She didn’t quite understand why she had been s frightened what did she expect? An empty theatre? A welcoming party? Mary ran a nervous hand through her hair as she tried to regain her composure, “I’m sorry, did I disturb you? I can leave, if you want. I’m not even sure why I’m here. God, this is ridiculous, maybe, urg! I’m sorry, I really am, I should just leave, it just…” She trailed off as all her insecurities came rushing through her head and out her mouth. Mary paused for a moment, her hand still on the door, and finally said, “You’re not a murderer right?”
With a snap of her head she turned her attention to the speaker, “Oh,” Her voice cracked in surprise as her heartbeat calmed down. She didn’t quite understand why she had been s frightened what did she expect? An empty theatre? A welcoming party? Mary ran a nervous hand through her hair as she tried to regain her composure, “I’m sorry, did I disturb you? I can leave, if you want. I’m not even sure why I’m here. God, this is ridiculous, maybe, urg! I’m sorry, I really am, I should just leave, it just…” She trailed off as all her insecurities came rushing through her head and out her mouth. Mary paused for a moment, her hand still on the door, and finally said, “You’re not a murderer right?”
Ieeko
There was a streak of uncertainty to Noah's face as he attempted to gauge the woman's status. It had been a while, and, in a way, he was wondering if people had gotten the idea that the bills could be ignored. If that were the case, then sending them was a pointless endeavor. Maybe the book would realize that.
No. No, that wasn't the case. There was something to the woman. Clearing his throat, he had straightened himself. A somewhat coy smile had crossed his face as he thought of murders and kidnapping ploys. The woman was likely paranoid, but, why wouldn't she be? Random offerings were something to be suspicious of.
"I'm not a murder, miss." He had laughed lightly, shaking his head. "Welcome to the West Theatre." He had paused a moment, extending a hand. "Noah Vasser; and no, ma'am, you're not disturbing me. How can I help you?"
Tempest Vernum
A nervous chuckled escaped Mary, “I’m sorry, I’m acting like a neurotic freak, you just never know right? I’ve seen things in my life, there are some pretty sick people out there, hell, I dated a few of them, and then I just get this playbill, and this theatre, and it has this feeling right? So…”
Mary trailed off once more looking frustrated and just slightly embarrassed. Her hand had once again found purchase in her short hair, a nervous habit she developed ever since she decided she never wanted her hair longer than her ear. Here was a perfectly reasonable man standing in front of her, and she’s accusing him of being a murdering rapist. Well, not really, but that thought was definitely in her mind.
“God, I’m a rambling freak today, I sound like my mother.” Mary took a moment to look absolutely disgusted with her self and quickly shook her head before smiling taking Noah’s outstretched hand into a firm handshake. “Hello Noah Vasser, my name’s Mary Winchcomb, West Theatre, eh?” She let go of his hand and took a moment to really take in the sights, “Nice place you’ve got. I only came here because I got this playbill in the mail, and it’s just been bugging me, you know? I don’t really know what it’s about, but I couldn’t help but come down here. It’s a little confusing though, who would send me a playbill?”
Ieeko
Her statement had intrigued him a moment. It was the first time he had actually seen someone walk into the theatre with a general precaution or worry. The lure was intoxicating within the place, but the matters of sense were almost ... He was impressed. Yet, as she mentioned being the recipient of a bill, it became business as usual. "Oh, no, no, no. You have every right to be concerned."
"Playbill?" He had pulled somewhat of a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his head with somewhat goofy intention. "Oh, ma'am. I do apologize for the confusion. You see..." He had gestured to the theatre. "A relative of mine recently ... Er. Passed away, you could say, and left this theatre to me and my younger brother. We've been tidying it up and setting in regular actors for productions. The problem is ... Who goes to the theatre anymore when there is the cinema? We decided to send out playbills to random addresses as part of a campaign. You're not the only one who has received one, I assure you of that." He had cleared his throat. "The bills are nothing more than free tickets for some of our productions. People show up here and there and sometimes miss their productions, thus it's a rather flawed campaign. Nevertheless, we're always inclined to give a bit of a tour - if you're interested in possibly seeing the stage? It's a phenomenal performance room. Top-notch."
"Playbill?" He had pulled somewhat of a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his head with somewhat goofy intention. "Oh, ma'am. I do apologize for the confusion. You see..." He had gestured to the theatre. "A relative of mine recently ... Er. Passed away, you could say, and left this theatre to me and my younger brother. We've been tidying it up and setting in regular actors for productions. The problem is ... Who goes to the theatre anymore when there is the cinema? We decided to send out playbills to random addresses as part of a campaign. You're not the only one who has received one, I assure you of that." He had cleared his throat. "The bills are nothing more than free tickets for some of our productions. People show up here and there and sometimes miss their productions, thus it's a rather flawed campaign. Nevertheless, we're always inclined to give a bit of a tour - if you're interested in possibly seeing the stage? It's a phenomenal performance room. Top-notch."
Tempest Vernum
“A campaign, eh? It’s definitely an interesting way to get people’s attention. You certain have mine.” Mary could appreciate a creative businessman; goodness knows she needed all the creativity she had to keep her bookstore open. This man was doing wonders to keep Mary assured she hadn’t made the wrong choice in coming (not that it had been much of a choice, she thought quietly to herself. There was only so much you could resist before going mad.)
“But I would love a tour, I haven’t been to a theatre since my parents died. I’ve missed it. Are there going to be others? Like, how exactly does this whole thing work?” She waved her hands around in a vague manner to try and encompass what she was getting at. “I didn’t miss me performance did I?” Her face fell at the thought. Mary loved the thrill of watching a performance (preferably with her brother up there, but she was flexible). “But yeah, even then, I would love to have a look around!”
“But I would love a tour, I haven’t been to a theatre since my parents died. I’ve missed it. Are there going to be others? Like, how exactly does this whole thing work?” She waved her hands around in a vague manner to try and encompass what she was getting at. “I didn’t miss me performance did I?” Her face fell at the thought. Mary loved the thrill of watching a performance (preferably with her brother up there, but she was flexible). “But yeah, even then, I would love to have a look around!”
Ieeko
Noah suddenly felt clever. For telling the truth, at that. A wide grin had been plastered against his face. "Well, let's just say it was something I thought I'd explore." He had given a light laugh. It almost felt rejuvenating, despite it all.
He had cleared his throat after a moment, waving an arm as he decided to lead her along down the hall and toward the doors. "I've been an actor for as long as I can remember." He had stiffened somewhat at the thought of parents dying. "Uhm." He had coughed, shifting a little as he walked. "My parents loved the theatre too. To tell you the truth, it's part of the reason I wanted to be an actor. I loved it, and they enjoyed it. It was a stroke of misfortunate luck that I came to own this place, though." He had wrinkled his nose. "It almost feels orchestrated at times. An old relative I'd never met apparently owned it, and had died. I can't say he left the place in good shape. The amount of renovation that had to be done to get this place looking less like a shabby old shack? It was absurd, but I think I've done a good job with it." A motion had been given towards the hall-way. It wasn't perfect, but Noah was a proud man - and the height, the wallpaper, smoothly plated on, and the cleanly floor, all filled him with satisfaction. It was much nicer than what it had been before. Though, he supposed, the woman would not know that.
"You haven't missed today's showing. You're incredibly early. I wasn't expecting anyone for another hour!" He had nodded his head somewhat thoughtfully. The truth was. She was right on time. But, she didn't need to hear that. She was asking questions. He couldn't explain. In a way, he felt guilty, imagining shutting those big doors on her once they got to the end of the hall. "Now." He had glanced back at her. "One of the interesting thing I find about this hall - and this actually leads to our stage - is the doors up ahead. Whoever designed this building had a cathedral in mind. The windows, the stained glass up there. Pretty things, though I've never deciphered why they would be associated with a theatre beyond having such nice color."
He had cleared his throat after a moment, waving an arm as he decided to lead her along down the hall and toward the doors. "I've been an actor for as long as I can remember." He had stiffened somewhat at the thought of parents dying. "Uhm." He had coughed, shifting a little as he walked. "My parents loved the theatre too. To tell you the truth, it's part of the reason I wanted to be an actor. I loved it, and they enjoyed it. It was a stroke of misfortunate luck that I came to own this place, though." He had wrinkled his nose. "It almost feels orchestrated at times. An old relative I'd never met apparently owned it, and had died. I can't say he left the place in good shape. The amount of renovation that had to be done to get this place looking less like a shabby old shack? It was absurd, but I think I've done a good job with it." A motion had been given towards the hall-way. It wasn't perfect, but Noah was a proud man - and the height, the wallpaper, smoothly plated on, and the cleanly floor, all filled him with satisfaction. It was much nicer than what it had been before. Though, he supposed, the woman would not know that.
"You haven't missed today's showing. You're incredibly early. I wasn't expecting anyone for another hour!" He had nodded his head somewhat thoughtfully. The truth was. She was right on time. But, she didn't need to hear that. She was asking questions. He couldn't explain. In a way, he felt guilty, imagining shutting those big doors on her once they got to the end of the hall. "Now." He had glanced back at her. "One of the interesting thing I find about this hall - and this actually leads to our stage - is the doors up ahead. Whoever designed this building had a cathedral in mind. The windows, the stained glass up there. Pretty things, though I've never deciphered why they would be associated with a theatre beyond having such nice color."
Tempest Vernum
“I think it’s a brilliant way to get people to stop by, I sort of want to steal it for my bookstore, I can just see business perking up. But, I don’t think it really works that way. Mine’s just a bookstore.” Mary said, hoping that she didn’t sound like a capitalist b*****d who was just trying to steal business ideas, she just really thought it was an effective way to gain patronage. Ever since she opened her store, her mind was a shrewd place to be.
Mary perked up at Noah’s comment of being an actor, “Really, an actor? My older brother’s an actor as well.” A fond look crossed her face as her hand went up to fiddle with the diamond stud in her second hole on her right ear, “I think he’s pretty decent, what about you? Planning on performing in your own theatre?” But she couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter about his comment on parents, specifically the ‘too’ part. “Are you kidding me? My parents hating the theatre! They thought it was a ‘frivolous waste of time and money’ I do believe, no, I went to performances with my brother, we snuck out. It’s just that once they died, they left me with enough money to start my business and from there, it’s just been work, work, work. But surely you understand that?” She gave a sympathetic look as he expressed his feeling of being maneuvered into a situation. “I think you’ve done a brilliant job with the place. “ The man was very clearly proud of his work, and who wouldn’t be, to Mary, this was an impressive theatre.
“Oh good! This is exciting! I can’t wait!” She gave a little bounce on the balls of her feet as she dutifully followed him down the hallway. “Even though I’m not one for architecture, this is quite beautiful, I must say, a lot of potential, right? It’s like a great big procession to go see a show? Very grandiose, I love it! So cool.”
Mary perked up at Noah’s comment of being an actor, “Really, an actor? My older brother’s an actor as well.” A fond look crossed her face as her hand went up to fiddle with the diamond stud in her second hole on her right ear, “I think he’s pretty decent, what about you? Planning on performing in your own theatre?” But she couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter about his comment on parents, specifically the ‘too’ part. “Are you kidding me? My parents hating the theatre! They thought it was a ‘frivolous waste of time and money’ I do believe, no, I went to performances with my brother, we snuck out. It’s just that once they died, they left me with enough money to start my business and from there, it’s just been work, work, work. But surely you understand that?” She gave a sympathetic look as he expressed his feeling of being maneuvered into a situation. “I think you’ve done a brilliant job with the place. “ The man was very clearly proud of his work, and who wouldn’t be, to Mary, this was an impressive theatre.
“Oh good! This is exciting! I can’t wait!” She gave a little bounce on the balls of her feet as she dutifully followed him down the hallway. “Even though I’m not one for architecture, this is quite beautiful, I must say, a lot of potential, right? It’s like a great big procession to go see a show? Very grandiose, I love it! So cool.”
Ieeko
Noah was mildly amused. There was a deep-rooted feeling somewhere within his stomach. Almost insane. The poor woman didn't know what she was wishing for. From a business stand-point, perhaps it was brilliant, but, oh, was it worth the chill in the rafters? The eying the lobby doors every passage? He had hummed somewhat, giving a nod of his head to acknowledge the idea. "It's worked wonderfully." He had spoken with a quirked smile.
The change in subject from business and the 'campaign' was more than welcome along the way. Noah had straightened himself, rubbing a shoulder with one hand. "As long as I can remember! I'll admit, there isn't good money in it, but it's grown on me. I enjoy it." He had squinted somewhat with the idea of acting in his own theatre. "No. No, I don't believe I will be. That spoils the honor in it. How anyone could take a role in their own theatre is beyond me. Casting. The casting is the biggest thrill to me. There's nothing like getting a phone call asking you to come back."
The colors had swirled about the hallway, radiating in their cheery nature. Noah had looked at the doors as they came to a stop before him. Bowing his head, he had set his hands on one of the doors. The fine texture was as fixated within his memory as ever. "I'd never heard of this place before my brother and I came to own it; but I can just imagine the productions that went on here. I'm sure it has quite the history somewhere within its archive. If there is one. I haven't seen any file-work, but the place is big, and it definitely had not come with a map." With a nod of his head, Noah had nudged the door open. His back had been pushed against it to hold it as he motioned for Mary to step inside. "And here is the auditorium."
The change in subject from business and the 'campaign' was more than welcome along the way. Noah had straightened himself, rubbing a shoulder with one hand. "As long as I can remember! I'll admit, there isn't good money in it, but it's grown on me. I enjoy it." He had squinted somewhat with the idea of acting in his own theatre. "No. No, I don't believe I will be. That spoils the honor in it. How anyone could take a role in their own theatre is beyond me. Casting. The casting is the biggest thrill to me. There's nothing like getting a phone call asking you to come back."
The colors had swirled about the hallway, radiating in their cheery nature. Noah had looked at the doors as they came to a stop before him. Bowing his head, he had set his hands on one of the doors. The fine texture was as fixated within his memory as ever. "I'd never heard of this place before my brother and I came to own it; but I can just imagine the productions that went on here. I'm sure it has quite the history somewhere within its archive. If there is one. I haven't seen any file-work, but the place is big, and it definitely had not come with a map." With a nod of his head, Noah had nudged the door open. His back had been pushed against it to hold it as he motioned for Mary to step inside. "And here is the auditorium."
Tempest Vernum
Of all the things Mary enjoyed, talking about theatre was one of her favorites. She was by no means an expert, far from it. Everything she knew had come from her brother. It didn’t stop her from trying though, knowing that she could never truly be a part of the production itself. Instead she resigned herself to sitting happily in the audience. “I’ve never been an actor so I wouldn’t know the feeling, but I’m assuming it’s very much like being front row of a concert of your favorite band, or even in the mosh pit, the adrenaline and excitement all accumulating into pure joy. But I only say that based off of my brother’s face when he gets a call. But what are you going to do? Stop acting? I can’t imagine you’ll have time to do all that fancy acting stuff, and run this place all at the same time, can you?”
As Mary came to a stop behind Noah, she let her eyes soak up her surroundings. She had never been one be in awe of art and other such visual splendors. The written and spoken word had always had more of a draw for her. She could appreciate a pretty scene, but it never had the same impact as a passage of descriptive prose or the emotion-powered lyrics of a song screamed or sweetly sung. But she could honestly say that the hallway of the theatre was one of the most impressive sites she had seen in a while. “History has never been my forte, but I can honestly see why some one might be inspired to investigate with a building as incredible as this. Sorry about the map and file thing though, that must suck.”
Mary watched as Noah opened the doors behind him and with a brief thank-you she entered into the auditorium.
Ieeko
Noah's face had grown long at the idea. It was certainly cheap to put casting direction into the hands of an employee, only to put that employee in the predicament of having to decide whether or not they wanted to be fired as per not casting their boss. It was a hollowing matter, and he had never thought of it before. At the time of taking the theatre, it had seemed a stupendous opportunity. It was a greater life than a musty old apartment driven by rent collections and angry land-lords. "I don't know." He had cleared his throat. "To tell you the truth, I've never actually thought about what I'd do. I haven't had a role in months, but I've been so busy." Climbing a ladder, painting the walls, dealing with in-takes, cleaning up dirty old rooms. "You almost don't have time to think."
As Mary passed through the doors, Noah had debated turning back. But a compelling force in his stomach had told him otherwise, and with a heaving breath at the words thank you, he had slammed the doors behind her. The doors were sealed, and she was on her way.
The auditorium was a chill location. It as vast, empty, its red seats stretching down dark aisles towards a centered stage. Dim lights were shining down from the ceiling, highlighting the aisles like hidden lanterns, occasionally flickering as a breathing sound escaped the air vents hidden within the rafters. Set against the blue backdrop of the stage was the book. Large, heavy, and out of place, despite the focus that had appeared on it. The light was strongest at that central location, and the air had seemed to travel towards it, growing steadily as it nudged Mary forward towards the stage.
As Mary passed through the doors, Noah had debated turning back. But a compelling force in his stomach had told him otherwise, and with a heaving breath at the words thank you, he had slammed the doors behind her. The doors were sealed, and she was on her way.
The auditorium was a chill location. It as vast, empty, its red seats stretching down dark aisles towards a centered stage. Dim lights were shining down from the ceiling, highlighting the aisles like hidden lanterns, occasionally flickering as a breathing sound escaped the air vents hidden within the rafters. Set against the blue backdrop of the stage was the book. Large, heavy, and out of place, despite the focus that had appeared on it. The light was strongest at that central location, and the air had seemed to travel towards it, growing steadily as it nudged Mary forward towards the stage.
Tempest Vernum
The slamming of the doors startled Mary and she jumped to look around at the newly closed doors. A small indignant gasp escaped her mouth, but just as she was about to voice a complaint, the bright light focused on the center stage. A sharp shiver ran up Mary’s spine as she turned to take in her new surroundings. It was somewhat creepy, the emptiness of the theatre seemed pressing to her. She brought her hands up to rub her arms against the cool atmosphere, once again regretting her lack of coat. She took a tentative step down the dimly lit aisle, slowly approaching the large book on the center of the stage. It was curious to her that a book would be placed there, a prop perhaps for the performance? Some how though, she doubted it. The theatre was deserted, not a soul in sight. Once she reached the stage. She climbed up to take a closer look.
Ieeko
The book had shifted, its cover bumping in rhythmic life as if it were breathing. The closer that Mary drew to it, the heavier it seemed to shift. A rushing air sifted throughout the rafters, rattling the curtains until all had stopped. The stage was still. Everything was still for a brief moment ... Until the air returned.
The book had given a shrill howl as its massive cover flopped open. The thud it had generated was strong enough to shake the stage. Back and forth, the pages had blown. They were frantic, searching with eager anticipation until light had shot from them, establishing a phantom beggar strolling about the stage with purpose.
“Beadle ... Beadle ...No good hiding, I saw you! Are you in there still? Beadle ... Beadle...”, she echoed as she scaled a set of stairs and began towards a door. Another woman was within a room, trying desperately to find a place to hide as the beggar neared . Just as the door had began to creak, she had leaped into a chest.
“Beadle dear, Beadle...”, the beggar had called. she had began humming, rocking her arms as if rocking a baby to sleep: “Beadle deedle deedle deedle deedle dumpling, Beadle, dumpling, Be-deedle dumpling...”
“What are you doing here?!” A man entered the scene, devilish and crude. There was a sense of evil and anger to his face, but the beggar was blithe. She grabbed him, exclaiming earnestly:
“Ah, evil is here, sir. The stink of evil -- from below -- from her! …... Beadle dear, Beadle!”
“Be quiet, woman!” The man had shrieked.
“She's the Devil's wife! Oh, beware her, sir. She with no pity...” The beggar had leaned forward as if she were trying to get a look at the man. "... in her heart." Her words had trailed off. She recognized the man.
“Out of here! Now!” The man had cried. He could see a Judge approaching from the window.
“Hey, don't I know you, mister?” She had asked him.
“There’s no time!” The man had wailed, and with one last frantic look around the room, he grabbed his razor and fiercely slashed the beggar woman’s throat and tossed her on to a chair in one smooth movement. He pulled a lever and the beggar woman slid through the floor. In an instant the chair had snapped back into place, and the scene had come to a close with the judge emerging through the door.
The light from the book had flickered a few times before dying down. The wind had rustled anxiously until it had died, and in a blinding flash, the room became itself once more ... But when the ordeal had ended, Mary was not alone. A little girl stood before her - the beggar - aimlessly searching for her Beadle.
The book had given a shrill howl as its massive cover flopped open. The thud it had generated was strong enough to shake the stage. Back and forth, the pages had blown. They were frantic, searching with eager anticipation until light had shot from them, establishing a phantom beggar strolling about the stage with purpose.
“Beadle ... Beadle ...No good hiding, I saw you! Are you in there still? Beadle ... Beadle...”, she echoed as she scaled a set of stairs and began towards a door. Another woman was within a room, trying desperately to find a place to hide as the beggar neared . Just as the door had began to creak, she had leaped into a chest.
“Beadle dear, Beadle...”, the beggar had called. she had began humming, rocking her arms as if rocking a baby to sleep: “Beadle deedle deedle deedle deedle dumpling, Beadle, dumpling, Be-deedle dumpling...”
“What are you doing here?!” A man entered the scene, devilish and crude. There was a sense of evil and anger to his face, but the beggar was blithe. She grabbed him, exclaiming earnestly:
“Ah, evil is here, sir. The stink of evil -- from below -- from her! …... Beadle dear, Beadle!”
“Be quiet, woman!” The man had shrieked.
“She's the Devil's wife! Oh, beware her, sir. She with no pity...” The beggar had leaned forward as if she were trying to get a look at the man. "... in her heart." Her words had trailed off. She recognized the man.
“Out of here! Now!” The man had cried. He could see a Judge approaching from the window.
“Hey, don't I know you, mister?” She had asked him.
“There’s no time!” The man had wailed, and with one last frantic look around the room, he grabbed his razor and fiercely slashed the beggar woman’s throat and tossed her on to a chair in one smooth movement. He pulled a lever and the beggar woman slid through the floor. In an instant the chair had snapped back into place, and the scene had come to a close with the judge emerging through the door.
The light from the book had flickered a few times before dying down. The wind had rustled anxiously until it had died, and in a blinding flash, the room became itself once more ... But when the ordeal had ended, Mary was not alone. A little girl stood before her - the beggar - aimlessly searching for her Beadle.
