It was supposed to be a dare. Just another stupid challenge for a group of reckless teens, trying to prove something. We had all heard the stories about the old theater. The rumors about strange lights at night, about the eerie figures in the windows, the whispers that drove people insane. But we were different, weren't we? We were fearless, or so we thought.
It was me—Alex—along with Sarah, Jake, and Tommy. We'd snuck out after dark, our hearts pounding with excitement more than fear. The rain had stopped, but the night still held a chill that made our breaths visible in the air. The theater loomed before us, a dark, crumbling structure, its once grand entrance now covered in graffiti and decay.
We walked inside, our footsteps echoing off the walls. It smelled like rot, dust, and something... sweeter. The air felt thick, like it was alive, watching us.
"Let's go on stage!" Tommy yelled, always the loud one, always the one who pushed us further. We followed, a mix of laughter and nervous energy filling the space.
But then we saw him.
Standing motionless at the edge of the stage, that pale face, those long, sharp fingers. He didn't move, didn't acknowledge us at first. He just... watched.
"Who's there?" Jake called out, trying to sound braver than he felt.
The Puppeteer finally stirred, and in a voice that made my skin crawl, he spoke, "You shouldn't have come."
I froze. My breath caught in my throat. I tried to turn, to run, but my body felt heavy, like the air itself was pressing down on me. Tommy laughed nervously, but his voice broke as soon as he tried to step forward.
Before any of us could react, he reached out. His fingers were impossibly fast, faster than anyone could have anticipated. He touched Sarah first.
She screamed, but it was short-lived, like her voice was cut off. Her body jerked, frozen mid-movement, her eyes wide with terror. She stood there, like a doll with no soul. We screamed. Jake tried to pull her away, but it was too late. She was already a puppet, motionless and trapped in time.
"Run!" I shouted, pushing Jake toward the exit.
But the Puppeteer was faster. He moved like a shadow, flowing through the space with an eerie calm. His eyes locked onto Jake, and before I could blink, Jake was on the ground, twitching. His legs and arms locked in place, his body now lifeless.
Tommy panicked. He turned, but it was already too late for him. The Puppeteer grabbed him, lifting him as though he weighed nothing, and placed him carefully in the center of the stage. His body froze, his expression frozen in fear. He was now another puppet among the others.
I was alone.
I don't know why I wasn't taken. Maybe I ran faster, or maybe the Puppeteer wanted me to see it all. His cold, emotionless eyes watched as I backed away, my heart racing. Every step I took seemed to echo louder than the last, but somehow, he didn't move toward me. He just stood there, surrounded by his collection of puppets.
I ran. I ran until my lungs burned, until my legs felt like they would give out, but I didn't stop. The night swallowed me whole, and I didn't look back.
I'm the only one who made it out. I'm the only one who saw what happens when you break the rules. The others... they are still there, standing on that stage, waiting. The Puppeteer's collection will never be complete without them, and I will never forget the way they looked—lifeless, trapped in the moments they couldn't escape.
Every time I close my eyes, I see them. I hear his whisper in my ears, soft like silk, cold like the grave.
"You will be beautiful too, one day."
And I know—someday, I will return.