The crowds began to ascend into the theater in their finest gowns and suits. The once quiet, somber chamber erupted and echoed with sounds of excitement. Large crystal chandeliers decorated the theater with showers of enchanting lights. Layers of balconies surrounded the stage in a lunate formation. All eyes were facing the stage. Where blood red curtains draped solemnly onto the stage. Concealing the show. The first performance in the Reidolly theater since its great fall.
On a cold December afternoon, during a breathtaking performance, this very theater took a great tumble. Inside the theater were ballet dancers, dancing gracefully across the stage, in embellished skirts that glistened in the light. A full orchestra filled with violins, cellos and flutes. Playing music for the dancers in perfect harmony. A full house, filled with thousands of souls watching and admiring. Mr and Mrs Reidolly glancing down above with admiration, and pride. A truly perfect night. Until right at the end. At the peak of the violin arco. When the grand building collapsed downwards to the earth, with the terrifying sounds of destruction and muffled screams. Leaving nothing but a grave of concrete and rebars. Underneath the rubble, held thousands of crushed bones and souls. Torn apart flesh still decorated with jeweled dresses and hats. The splintered wood and broken strings of instruments only mimicked music. The echoes of performers’ voices weaving through the air, as the final layer of dust fell to the ground. Sealing the final breath of this breathtaking performance. The end of the Reidolly theater. Or so we thought.
On March 23rd people awoke to a strange sight. Where the melancholy tomb of the performing arts lies. A grand auditorium now stood. Overnight, at the hit of a hat, the theater was rebuilt. Everyone in town stopped and stared with disbelief. The bewitching building towering over the townspeople. It was just as alluring and beautiful as before. Lights adorned the theater all the way to the tops of the building, down to the large marquee, where it read in bold black letters. “The Ballad of Reidolly Theatre” March 24th, 6:00. The performance of a lifetime.
The echoing chatter began to fade as the glistening lights came to a close. The large chamber fell into darkness with the only thing filling the void being the whisper across the crowds and the quiet breathing of lungs. A single stream of spotlight flashed from the void onto the bright red curtain, as its once solemn pleats slowly opened. At the center the stage stood a large mellow piano. Its instrumental body glistened in the spotlight, like fresh ink wells. The piano bench was adorned with a plush, red, velvet fabric. With no one but the dazzling light placed upon it. People stared with suspense waiting for a movement, a sound, anything! But nothing, not a single noise, not a single movement. Just a piano. The silence continued for a minute…then two…then three. The only sound that weaved through people’s ears was the buzzing spotlight, but nothing more.
But then all of a sudden like a gust of wind, the sound of clicking shattered the silence. People stretched their necks, sat up in their seats. Searching. Where oh where was this clicking coming from? There from the shadows, a woman emerged with piercing white heels. She wore a tight pencil dress, with long gloves that stretched to her mid upper arms, all in a bright white shade. However, her most striking feature was the large brimmed hat that sat atop her head, creating an ominous shadow that concealed her face. She took slow and graceful steps towards the piano bench, with each step she took forward creating a loud click that echoed across the theater. Thousands of eyes watched each step of those heels, each bounce of the brimmed hat. Until her final arrival to the inky piano.
She stopped walking, and stared down at the piano with her shadowed face, examining it. She then sat down onto the velvet bench. The sound of silence began to come again as the woman stared down at the keys. Her blinding white apparel reflected off the darkness of the piano. Her gloved hands stretched elegantly across the keys into her final position. She then finally began to play. The keys first began slow, low, and quiet, like small ripples in an ocean. But as her hands moved the notes began to become faster, stronger! The waves of her notes began to leave the stage and weave through the audience, it stretched through the aisles and flowed through people’s ears. Her movements are faster, but still with a sense of grace. The notes became bigger, and flooded the room, reaching the audience sitting above in the layers of balconies. The notes sung of different emotions, hitting each person with a sense of bittersweet heart ache. The storm of waves continued flooding the theater. Until her white gloves began to slow.
The room began to drain of chaotic notes, and fall into melancholy streams. All flowing back to the stage, where grateful hands created sad notes. The sound of slow keys continued for a few moments until the final note gave one last sound. Like the beats of a dying heart finally coming to an end on a heart monitor. The women in white stood in silence for a moment, letting the sounds of applause take the show for one moment. As the perpetual sound of clapping came to a close. The woman quietly rose from her seat, and walked forward, downstage center. Her white figure stood in the light like an angel reaching for heaven. Her head facing the creaking stage.
She then looked forward at the audience, the shadows of her hat still grasping at her face. Her shadow mask looked around the room, almost examining the audience. The audience watched with confusion. What was to be her next move? As she stared forward, her gloved hands rose from her side and stretched to the edge of her hat. Where she grasped the rim, and raised the hat off her head, into the air, taking a bow.
The audience stared in silence only to be followed by a choir of screams and shrieks. A sense of terror and fatigue washed over the entire theater. Showers of retch fell from the balconies, decorating the people below in vomit. People began to blindly run in the dark, from their seats to the main doors. Tripping and falling over seats and people. The once elegant audience members became terrified, and desperate savages. Climbing over each other trying to get as far away from the stage as possible. Desperately trying to get to the main doors. The bodies of those who fell in the stampede were crushed underneath desperate heels and shoes, as those who had not fallen, ran to the doors. But, when the desperate men and women reached the door. They realized that the main doors were now impenetrable. Leaving the audience no choice but to watch the show. Sealed inside this enchanting chamber of dark shadows.
All heads turned back to the terror that destroyed their minds. At the center of Reidolly theater. Where blood red curtains decorated the stage. Stood a woman in white now stained red. As she bowed her head to reveal a crushed skull with dismembered flesh and brain. Red poured out of her mind like spillage from a wine glass, onto her white dress and heels. The shade of dark thick red, and piercing white shimmered in the spotlight, as she stood frozen in a perfect bow. As she began to raise her disfigured head, the sound of piercing violin played over the audience screams and sobs. The spotlight began to grow on the stage, as disfigured ballet dancers emerged dancing gracefully across the stage. All embellished with torn apart flesh, and bones. Blood rained from their bodies onto the stage, as they danced around and around.
As the ballet dancer got closer to the stage, a masculine figure emerged from the shadows, wearing a white suit, and brimmed hat, that concealed his face. Walking gracefully to the piano women, he too took off his hat to reveal a crushed skull with a brain floating to thick red blood. When he approached the women he grasped her gloved hands. As the audience members started with utter terror. A realization set among everyone in the theater. The man and women in stained white. Both adorned their ring fingers with identical rings. Mr. and Mrs. Reidolly.
The City High Review 