You’re cold now... so cold that your body trembles and you pull your wool cloak up around your shoulders, clutching it tightly about your neck. The audience seems to have dispersed slightly. Some may have left due to the late hour, some scurried out voicing whispers of disgust at the previous performance and some were simply afraid. Despite those that remain you feel suddenly alone. There are moments when all of this seems far too real.
People may come and go throughout the evening but the Theatre des Vampires never fails to draw a large crowd and fill every seat again the very next night.
Part 3 La Mort d'Innocence
The curtain opens to reveal a lone musician upon the empty stage. The orchestra plays quietly in the background and his dark hair shadows his face as he brings the violin to his chin. Slowly the horsehair bow moves across the strings... producing music unlike any you have ever heard before. The melody is reminiscent of the kind played by bands of traveling gypsies yet it has a much more surreal and unearthly quality to it. It’s enough to make the blood run cold.
Several giant marionettes are lowered to the stage. Golden strings are attached to their ankles, wrists and the tops of their heads. They surround the dark violinist, obscuring him completely from view as the haunting melody plays on. Hand in hand they spin and whirl about - dancing as if the music itself is the only force that animates them. Every movement is in perfect time with time with the strokes of the musicians bow.... but when the group of wooden dancers separate for just a moment, he is no longer there. The song plays on as if it has a life of it’s own but the musician himself has vanished.
Black, unseeing eyes stare out into the audience. Painted crimson lips smile in the most inviting manner and suddenly one of the puppets breaks free from her strings and descends into the crowd. There is a startled gasp when this dark haired beauty reveals that she does indeed live... or so it appears... as she begins to weave her way through the rows of chairs towards you. Taking your warm hand in hers she leans in to whisper softly in your ear.
“Will you join us on the stage, Madame? Will you take part in the show?”
Without a moments hesitation you rise to your feet. Your cloak falls into the chair behind you. An opportunity such as this happens once in a life time. How many others dream of a moment like this; a chance to stand upon such a famed stage with all eyes upon them? Slightly nervous yet overcome by a wave of anticipation and excitement you follow her down the aisle to the stage.
This elegant creature who appeared to be carved from wood leads you to the golden cords which still hang empty from the rafters. The other pale-faced marionettes move closer. One by one, the strings are fastened to your ankles and wrists... the final cord is looped loosely around your neck like a hangman’s noose. It’s a rather disconcerting feeling, but surely these fabulous actors have done this many times before and all is perfectly safe. You peer up above the curtain, into the darkness, wondering if your strings are simply tied in place or being held by the unseen hands of some great puppeteer. You find nothing but shadows.
The marionettes form a circle around you then drop to the floor, leaving you to stand alone in the very center of the stage as the music begins again. Unmoving, these perfect puppets surround you. They sit in the most awkward positions... necks and limbs tilted and bent like those of discarded toys. Eyes like beads of glass seem to stare right through your soul, not truly seeing you at all. The cords tied to your ankles and wrists suddenly tighten uncomfortably and before you can protest you find yourself being pulled this way and that in a clumsy dance.
The crowd applauds and you try to smile despite the ropes which seem to sear your flesh with every tug. The speed of the music increases with each passing minute and no matter how hard you try you can’t keep your footing. Entertainment or not, this has become unbearable and you must break free. You stumble about the stage trying to escape your binds... but whoever might be pulling the cords will not allow you a moments rest in which you might loosen the knots.
The rope around your neck tightens unexpectedly and a strangled cry escapes your lips. You are spinning now, unable to control your own momentum. The golden strings cut into your flesh and you can feel the blood sticky on your skin. The theater whirls around you in a myriad of distorted colours and shapes. The marionettes have come to life around you, laughing in the most depraved manner. Your choked pleas for release fall upon deaf ears and you find that you can no longer draw breath.
The music slows to a somber dirge.
Your eyes focus for one brief moment and the very last thing you catch sight of before darkness envelops you is the young violinist, standing to one side of the stage behind the velvet curtain smiling as he witnesses your demise.
You wake with a scream that pierces the darkness of your room... gasping for air as you throw the bed sheets to the floor. Your heart is pounding rapidly in your ears as you grope blindly for the bedside lamp. Light floods the room and you sit trembling in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up tight to your chest.
In your own bed, within the safety of your room you try to convince yourself that it wasn’t real... it was just a nightmare. You can hear the electric hum of your air conditioner and the startled meow of the cat who had been sleeping peacefully at the foot of your bed.
It was only a dream...
You step carefully out of bed, still feeling somewhat light-headed and shaken. And as you make your way towards the kitchen for a calming cup of tea you notice a yellowed scrap of paper by the floor at your feet. You reach down to retrieve it and are overcome by a sudden feeling of dread as you read the words printed in fancy antique script:
“Welcome to the Theater of the Vampires - The greatest spectacle of the Boulevard!”
The ticket drops from your trembling fingers and floats to the ground.
Bonne nuit, my darling. Sweet dreams.