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“Alright, a few minutes till showtime, everyone!” a person called out, snapping their fingers loudly while adjusting the clipboard in their arms.
The sounds of people rushing around, prepping set pieces and helping other actors ready for their upcoming scenes filled the air. The sounds of people talking to each other while others nervously rehearsed their lines overlapped.
Scott sat at his desk, shining his sun-golden, shiny mask as someone brushed his hair and someone else styled his suit. This was his 5th and last night for this play, and he wanted to make sure it went perfectly.
He was a master on stage; his acting and masterful talent had taken him almost all over the city. Maybe one day, all of Greece. He had to make sure of that. Maybe if this play goes smoothly enough for him, it can unlock that chance. He couldn’t let that slip away.
Scott stood up, placed down his mask and waved his hand to send his two helpers off. They nodded to him as they walked off. He grabbed a small bottle of wine and poured it into a glass. He gently shook the glass from side to side, watching the red liquid slosh around. He gently smiled and took a heavy sip, rearing his head back as he did so. A couple of droplets landed on the desk, staining it a deep red, reminding him of blood. Scott looked at it and shrugged. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his understudy prepping their sword prop into their sword belt. They had a cold, stern look on their face that softened into a smile as he made eye contact with Scott. They walked over to him as Scott placed down his half-empty glass of wine.
“You ready for the show, Scott?” They asked.
Scott smirked, regrabbing his mask.
“I’m always ready to put on a show.”
Scott twirled the mask in his hands and raised it to his head while holding the ribbons in the other hand. Their understudy came behind him and grabbed the ribbons.
“Let me help you with those.” They said, fastening them tightly. As they did, they whispered into Scott’s ear.
“You better make sure not to let this play fail, Scott.” they said. Their voice teetered between playfulness and harshness.
Scott smirked under his mask. He turned around and grabbed their understudy’s face with his hand in an almost flirty way.
“Oh, I never fail with my performances. I hope I can count on you not to fail on me.” Scott smirked, bowing down as he did so.
The understudy looked at Scott, slightly annoyed. They rolled their eyes and went over to grab their mask. They quickly tied it around their head and looked back at Scott afterwards. The understudy’s mask was a silver colour; while it was as shiny as Scott's, there was a slight dimness to it. The two made their way to the theatre curtains to wait for their act to start.
An actor ran over to Scott and patted them on the shoulder.
“Break a leg out there, Mr Pavlos!” They said, smiling through their mask. Scott smiled back and nodded to them. The understudy watched with their hands slightly gripping their fake sword.
“I don’t need luck, though.” Scott thought.
Soon the lights dimmed, and the crowd cheered. The play had begun…
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The play went on smoothly. Each line, each action, done in utter perfection. Scott and his understudy were almost perfectly in sync. Scott was impressed. His understudy seemed to be very invested in this performance. Almost a little too much. There were some moments during the play where the understudy lunged heavily at Scott, almost like he was purposefully trying to hurt him. Scott initially didn’t think much of it at the beginning, but now he was getting concerned. He’ll have to talk to them about it at the intermission.
Soon the first act of the play was coming to a close. Scott was going to have his understudy attack him with their sword while Scott would pretend to collapse. Scott got himself into position. He looked over at his understudy and waited for the moment for the pretend strike.
However, something felt wrong. He felt almost as if he needed to run away from his understudy and protect himself. He slightly tensed, trying not to ruin the scene. He couldn’t let his worrying ruin the show. He was just overthinking. He watched as the understudy unsheathed his sword and ran with breakneck speed at Scott. The understudy slashed at Scott’s chest, the impact causing him to stumble back. Weird, the understudy was just supposed to pretend to stab him.
“Must be just upping the act.” Scott thought.
Suddenly Scott felt a hot and wet liquid under his clothes. He looked down at his chest as a sharp stabbing pain enveloped him. He was bleeding fast. Scott yelled out in pain, falling back. He felt his breathing increase as he panicked. Scott tried using his left arm to stop the bleeding, but this caused him to fall onto his back. Scott grunted at the pain of hitting the ground. He looked at the audience, trying to get them to see his fear. That’s when he realised. His mask was blocking his face. To them, it looked like the show was going as planned, and to them it did. The crowd's expressions were of awe and amazement. Any signs of shock were most likely not because they realised what was happening.
Scott looked over to his understudy, hoping that the fear in his eyes could get his understudy to help him. That’s when he noticed. There was only hate and jealousy in the understudy’s eyes. No shock, no empathy, just hate. Then Scott realised. His understudy was trying to kill him. But why? Jealousy? Why were they jealous of him? It made no sense.
Scott started noticing his vision getting blurry and his body growing weak from blood loss. Scott tried to pull off his mask, but it was tied tightly behind his head. Of course, why would they make it easy? Scott tried calling out to him, but all that happened was Scott coughing up droplets of dark red blood. Scott fell onto his side. He felt his eyes slowly close and his breathing slow. As this happened, the theatre curtains slowly closed, and the audience cheered. He could hear the audience cheer for him. They had no idea what was happening to him.
As he lay there slowly dying, he heard his understudy walk off. Wait… would they ever get punished for this…?
Scott didn’t get to finish his thought as he felt his vision go black once the curtains had fully shut.
His last act.
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He had no idea how long he’d been here for. The underworld, well, moreover, the River Styx was a dreadfully dark and damp place. Only the sounds of souls screaming and groaning and the river's gentle movements provided anything. Was this what Scott’s afterlife was going to be? No sunlight, fresh meadows, or places to peacefully rest? No, just eternal loneliness and apathetic unliving.
Scott squeezed himself, tightly shutting his eyes. Maybe if he closed them long enough, he’d wake up? Maybe he’d wake up back on stage, in front of his fans to continue his show? No, that could never happen. He was dead, and he’d have to accept this. He pressed his head against his knees.
“That damn understudy.” He hissed through his teeth.
He slowly felt tears trickle down his face. Staining his clothes and slightly smearing his makeup. He tried wiping the tears away and sucking in a sharp breath, trying to keep whatever composure he had left.
Suddenly, a cold, gentle wind blew. Scott sat up, confused. Looking around, he almost felt as if it was circling him. But that was impossible, right? There’s no wind in the underworld, right? As soon as he thought that, the wind around him picked up speed, almost deafening him. Scott stood up, stumbling slightly. He tried cupping his hands around his ears to muffle the noise as he looked around. Soon, he saw something.
A small theatre mask was being formed out of the wind's twisting and winding currents. As the wind currents changed shape and speed, the mask’s face morphed between tragedy and comedy. Scott raised his hands down, the wind becoming less and less loud the longer he stared and focused on the weird shape. As if something told him to, he extended his hand out to grab the mask. As he did, the wind slowed down and started gently circling his arms. Once he grabbed the mask, it turned into a small ball of wind. Scott looked down at it, confused, before seeing a weird face where the mask had originally been.
Scott stepped back, surprised. As he did, the face made a wide, eerie smile and lunged forward at him as a body faded in behind them. Scott yelped in surprise as two cold hands grabbed his face and pulled him forward.
“Hey there, fella. Wanna have another try on stage?”
END