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As always, Al woke before the sun rose.

The world beyond his tiny basement "apartment" was cloaked in its usual 6AM darkness and he performed his morning rituals with a focused determination. He was tired and hadn't slept well. There were dark marks beneath his eyes and his thick brows were furrowed. He squinted against the light in the living room as he flicked on the overhead fan. He adjusted the A/C of the entire B&B, preparing it for the onslaught of sun that was being forecast on the television across from the abundantly pillowed couches facing it. It would be hot today, and cloudless. He decided to wear a tank top, jeans, and his boots. He stuffed a handkerchief in his back pocket, because he knew he'd have to use it to wipe the sweat from his brow later.

He turned off the T.V. and moved toward the stairs that led him to a dark hallway, flicking on all the lights as he drifted through the multi-family home's ground floor. His movements were robotic, habitual. He found his way to the kitchen and he prepared breakfast.


***

He was downtown when It happened.

Just as he finished loading the newly-repaired longcase clock onto the back of his truck, it began to rain. He frowned up at the sky, suddenly- almost miraculously considering how blue it had been only moments before- dull grey in color.

His truck, too, was gone. It had vanished in the time it had taken him to shift his gaze upwards then slant it back down. He frowned at the scene that had quietly unfolded itself around him. "What the <********>?" His mind was blown.

Voices, behind him, tore his gaze away from where his truck had sat only moments before.

He turned and looked at the small group of people huddled at the doors of the old theater he'd visited countless times during his youth. There were... things... floating in the air around him- weightless and seemingly unperturbed by the rain. He avoided them.

There was a mannequin among the group, too. It moved. It looked at the group. It looked at him. Al's spine felt stiff and his muscles were tense beneath his skin.

"-- the ******** going on?"

He called out to the group. It was uncharacteristic, but he decided that the unnatural situation warranted a change in pace. He approached them. He was drenched, dripping. They seemed to be the only thing real about this place.

"-- damn thing wants us to go in there?"

It was small inside, confined. The doors on the other side of the ticket booth could be locked. He was surrounded by strangers. There were too many possibilities. The mannequins were... unnerving. He grimaced at the one still holding the door. It looked livelier in there, of course. More inviting than the grey and the rain. Still, how could they predict a faceless thing's intentions when there were no emotions to be read? He'd never liked the smell of popcorn. The place didn't feel safe.

Temperance squeezed her eyes shut as the thing touched her. She sucked in a great breath, futility, inevitable failure washing over her. Were these memories - just emotions? Promises? Of all options, she liked the third the least. Behind her, someone tried to open the door to the theater. She glanced back and oh, it was maxi-pad man, whatever his name was. Sometimes she swore she could still smell the blood from that day. Funny, considering she was phlebotomist. Stupid. Temperance shook her head and looked back at the floating things. It hadn't hurt, so...

She reached out a hand towards one of them, thin fingers hesitant. A man's voice startled her and she jerked her head back towards the doors. A small, alarmed noise fell from her lips. There was a mannequin, or something that looked much like one, beckoning them in. It had not been there before.

"S-should we go in?" Or perhaps there could make a brea through the weird floating things. Her hand remained outstretched towards the mumur... simply because she'd forgotten to put it down.

It curled around her fingertips, as if it was trying to hold on for dear life. The murmur was cold.

Ice races across the ground from the deer. If one could call it that, for it had many legs and many eyes, and it's body was-

People step out of the way of it and fear suddenly takes over because it is coming her way. Temperance is rooted to the spot as ice hits her feet, encasing them and creeping further up her body.

The vision fades and the murmur is gone, a bit of frost left along the tip of Temperance's finger but that also fades.

A chill wind blows, the rain getting that much colder suddenly.

The murmur explodes into wisps, brushing across her entire torso.

Her teeth are not right, her body is not right, her entire being is not right. Everything is wrong. This is not her form, this is what they have changed her to. She struggles against so many hands, fighting back and her fury is immeasurable. She will have her revenge but her consciousness slips away.

The bitter taste of anger is last thing that fades.

There is nothing left of the wisp that touched Lily but more continue to appear.

Temperance recoiled, shivering and acutely aware of how short her skirt was and just how bare her legs were. In short, she was cold. She rubbed the tips of her fingers against her skirt, ignoring the way they ached. Something was coming - wasn't it? She turned to glance at the people near, noting Lily and giving her a tentative smile.

"I don't... I don't think they are evil. It feels like snippets of a bigger picture. Like floating puzzle pieces, or a warning. But.. w-why would we have to beat our way through - we can just walk." Being out in the open felt safer than holing up in a theater with a faceless mannequin. Squaring her shoulders, she decided to voice just that. "In fact, I don't know about this. Going into some creepy theater with a weird mannequin sounds like a set-up. I think I'm going to try to get through them." She jerked a thumb at the jellyfish-esque things, then smoothed back her hair. If this were a video game, this choice would be where the story-line split.

With a deep breath, Temperance tried to push past (or through?) the weird wisps.

Juniper stared at the mannequin as it moved to open the doors. It was a surreal thing to watch what with the uncanny movement of it's limbs. The opened door, with it's light and warmth flooding out was like a cruel invitation. As much as Juniper wanted to just dash inside to what felt like sweet safety, the appearance of more mannequins made her uneasy.

Eyes shifted to Shun. "Other Ashdown?" She questioned. "What do you mean by that?" It certainly wasn't a term she had heard before. In a way, it made sense. She didn't feel like she was necessarily in the quaint, quiet town she had come to call home.

As Dawson entered through the doors, Juniper found herself watching the mannequins for any sort of hostile movement towards him but they remained in their spots, unmoving. Alright. Maybe this is a safe haven. "I feel like Ghostbusters would be appropriate for this place." She cracked with a smile.

She was about to follow when Temperance caught her attention. "I don't think going through...hey!" She yelled as Temperance began to push through the Wisps. In a knee jerk reaction, Juniper lurched after the girl to try and grab hold of her and pull her back out of the wisps.

It was a bit too late when she realized she was putting herself in danger of touching more of the whispy things.

A murmur floated gently on the air, gliding towards Theo. It brushed along his arm, billowing upward to touch his cheek.

He looks up and it's night time. The stars are out and they are endless. A rain cloud is in the distant but it's not here, not yet. The others are waiting for him, he knows it, because preparations must be made. Soon, he knows, a choice must be made.

With a burst of warmth, the murmur disappeared.

Temperance was not so fortunate. The cloud of murmurs was thick and while one would have thought they could be pushed through, they could not. They had locked together into a thick cloud and the more she pushed in, the more they started to curl in around her.

She disappeared into the cloud of them that was blocking them. There are no visions for her this time, just the sense of too much pressing in on her. With so many around her it is as if there are hundreds of voices speaking all at once.



For those that go inside, the mannequin at the counter is motionless. Upon closer inspection there are jagged slashes across where it should have a face. There is a framed poster behind it, clearly an advert for the latest show.

The only thing that can be made out is that it is a dark forest. When Dawson approached and spoke, the mannequin's head tilted smoothly. It's hand moved to the till and hit a button.

A moment later, from a place on the counter, tickets started to dispense. The mannequin's hand moved again, a single finger raised. As if saying please take only one.

Theodore winced as he spilled inside the theater, scrubbing at his face where the wisp had touched. The sky was breathtaking, the anticipation beautiful and absolute, but it wasn't his and he didn't want it. He resented feeling warm and full of purpose when he was stuck back in this weird place.

He grabbed a ticket, or rather he grabbed two in accidental haste and quickly put one of them back.

"Sorry," he said to the mannequin with its finger raised. Theo squinted at its face then turned away, pretending not to see the scratches. He wondered if the girl outside was dead. He hoped not, but he wasn't going out there to check.