The Night Theater

CW: This story contains themes of body horror.

Danos was out for a walk, his mind on a hundred things, most of which were Mareya. For the life of him, he couldn't understand why his wife hated him so much. He wasn't built for the mines. Literally! His thin, lanky frame ached from hammering the rocks all day, and his weak constitution left him coughing and choking on the stone dust in the air. Part of him hated this weak body of his, but at the moment he was too righteous and angry to blame himself. Why did Mareya lust after money so much? They could be so much happier if he could take to the stage-

"What was that?" he thought, feeling a sudden, creeping tingle on the back of his neck. He turned around and there wasn't anything. The sensation passed, and his thoughts returned to his wife. Honestly, she had changed so much after they were wed. She used to be such a sweetheart, and now she was almost demonic-

There it was again! Something was in the alleys. Danos noticed that the streets were unusually empty today. Usually, there'd at least be a couple of urchins running about looking for trouble. Today, nothing. As he looked around, he couldn't figure out where in the city he was. He must have walked farther than he thought.

It was then that he saw an open door. For some reason, he felt compelled to walk towards it. Looking around, he saw no one nearby. "Hello?" he called out, but heard nothing back. The door was beckoning him, and as he stepped through, his foot slipped on a wet surface and he felt himself fall. He let out a scream as he fell down a tunnel of sorts. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like eternities as he continued falling, until he passed out.

When he awoke, he was still falling, but gently, and after the terror dissipated, he realized he was floating harmlessly in the air. As soon as he realized it though, he felt the floating feeling vanish and he landed with a small thud. Massaging his butt, he stood up. It was pitch dark around him. He felt the urge to call out, but stopped himself at the last second. Something was clearly wrong. Where was he? Why couldn't he see? More importantly, why wasn't he afraid?

He brushed around for some sort of light switch or torch and found nothing. As his eyes began to adjust, he felt the edge of the floor near him. As he turned towards that direction, a bright spotlight lit up in his face, blinding him. He shielded his eyes as the burning sear settled. It was only then that he could see that he was standing on a stage of some sort.

A thrill ran through his spine. He couldn't tell why he was excited. By all accounts, he should be terrified, but something inside was spurring him on. That's when the voice rang out.

"Some fresh blood has joined us on stage. Welcome to the night theater! What is your name, young man?"

"Danos, sir. Who am I speaking to?" he replied.

"Welcome Danos," the voice said. "You are at the night theater, the premier artistic institution in all of the shadow realm! Be honest with me, have you always had a desire to be a stage performer?"

"Yes sir," Danos found himself saying without meaning to. "I've always wanted to take the stage, although I don't have much experience to speak of. But I promise I can be a dab hand, sir! Please give me a chance!"

"My, my. What enthusiasm!" said the voice. "Just what we love!"

Danos didn't understand what he was doing. Inside his head, a part of him was screaming at himself to move, to run, something. But this part of him was becoming smaller and smaller as the voice continued, "We have just the part for you. There's a performance later today, and all we need you to do is stand still. You're a... scarecrow, of sorts. A specimen for the performance. But it is the leading role, the one the audience loves the most. Would you like to take it?"

His ears perked up at that word - audience. He felt his heart jump as his mind kept yelling at him to run away. "Why, I would jump at that opportunity, sir!"

"Good, then we're in agreement." A scroll floated down onto the stage, floating in front of Danos' face, alongside a small pin. "If you could just touch that pin, we'll get you prepared."

With the voice of reason in his head diminished to a bare whisper, Danos touched the pin, and it nicked the edge of his thumb, drawing a drop of blood that fell onto the parchment of the scroll. "It is done," said the voice, as the scroll folded up and retreated upwards. The pin settled into the breast pocket of Danos' shirt.

The gallery lit up, and for the first time, Danos could see beyond the stage. He saw hundreds of blackwood chairs laid out in a semi-circular pattern ascending up the amphitheater, and at the top were plush diwans of carmine fabric, far larger than any one man could sit on. He guessed each seated six people at least.

It is then that his senses returned to him, and he fully comprehended what had happened. "The shadow realm?" he thought to himself. "What have I gotten myself into?"

With a hurry in his step, he walked to the edge of the stage and got down. Exiting the amphitheater, Danos rushed through the lobby and out the front door. What greeted him sent shivers down his spine as he became despondent. A desolate landscape, with leafless trees and upturned rock as far as the eye could see. Bony, winged creatures flew low in the sky, carrying crude spears and wearing belts of skulls. Near the edge of the horizon, massive pupae slithered slowly towards unknown directions and the winged creatures circled their heads like so many gnats, poking at them.

Not knowing what to do, Danos walked back into the theater and sat in a corner, holding his knees and crying softly to himself. "Mareya... where are you? Where am I?"

---

The spotlight shines down on him as his arms were wide open, a huge smile plastered across his face. The crowd erupts - the noise is shocking. The faceless crowd is loud in its cheering. He’s rooted in place, waiting. He can’t close his eyes. He can’t move. “Lo...ve... lo...ve...” A tear escapes his eye and lands on one of the hundreds of pins in his face and thousands in his body. He thinks to himself, "The...y love... me!"

A devilish being walks up to him, wearing a torn, maroon silk suit and a top hat too big for its skull, in a mockery of showmanship. Flourishing five more needles to the roar of the crowd, it sticks them into Danos' neck in a spot where twenty pins already fought for purchase. He feels the pins go in, his skin now numb to the point where pain is an afterthought. "Mareya, if only you could see me now!"

There was something about the stage, Danos concluded, that was morphing his mind. He didn't feel any fear, and the pain itself was minimal, a small price to pay for the adulation of this demonic crowd. The diwans at the back weren't for six people, as he'd previously thought, but instead for some of the larger demons, who each towered over twenty feet tall. They were nobility, he guessed.

His attention was brought back to the stage as eight more pins went into his face. The crowd roared again.

Eventually, the performance ended. The theater emptied, its hellish audience getting their kicks from the torturous display. Danos felt the stiffness in his body release as he was able to move, and with the thousands of needles still in his body, he slowly fell backwards to lie down on the stage.

The ethereal voice came back, "Wonderful performance, young man! How do you feel?"

Taking a moment of silence, Danos smiled. "When is the next show?"

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