Tainted by Darkness

Retribution

Applause thundered as the curtain fell on the final scene. Stage lights faded throwing the cast into absolute darkness. Someone - a woman - screamed in fear, but it went unheard by the audience over the calls for an encore.

We stood frozen in shock when the curtain rose for the customary bow, allowing light to penetrate. The leading lady crouched over the stricken body of the leading man, her dress spattered, her hands and face coated in his blood. Beside him lay the implement of his demise: an overhead spot-light.

My first thought was that it could have been me. If it hadn't been for Dirk dating the casting director, it would have been.

Again the audience cheered, apparently ecstatic at being given what they requested. But this was no encore.

It was at this point I remembered the video camera in my hand and zoomed in on the body, panning out again to encapsulate the faces of the cast. My next thought being how much the media would pay for the footage. It's not every day one witnesses this type of incident, I needed to get as much of it as I could.

The police arrived before the theatre had cleared of patrons, uniformed officers shuffling the cast members into the main changing room to wait questioning by the plain clothed detective.

Others must have mentioned the camera because when my turn finally came about, he demanded the memory card as potential evidence. Thankfully I managed to slip the card into my phone and upload the file to my dropbox before then.

Something niggled at my subconscious, urging me to watch the video. I drove to the nearest McDonalds and used their free wifi. Two cups of coffee later, 'download complete' appeared on the small screen. Eagerness turned to bitter disappointment as I watched the curtain close and nothing I didn't already know presented itself.

I don't know what I'd hoped to see, perhaps someone tampering with the fittings? An explanation for why the spotlight chose that exact moment to come loose? Something, anything, to put my mind at ease after the whispers in the changing rooms that blamed the Scottish curse. Surely there was nothing to the stories. Uttering a single word couldn't possibly be to blame for the unfortunate incident that took Dirk's life, could it?

Look closer.

"Look at what closer? There's nothing there." I snapped, shooting the man beside me a glare.

He raised a single eyebrow in question.

Look closer.

"Who said that?"

"Said what mate?" the man asked, perplexed.

His companion leaned closer to him and mock whispered, "I think he's been out in the sun too long, Joe. Grab your coke, it's time we were leaving."

I ignored them and started the last ten minutes of the footage again, plugging the earphones in so I could hear it over the background chatter of McDonald's customers.

There!

"Yes!" I shouted, drawing unwelcome attention from a group of kids in the corner. "You're right. I saw something move just before the light fell."

The ear buds were yanked from my ears when one of the kids snatched the phone from my grasp. He danced away, waving it in the air like a trophy. His friends followed him outside. Under normal circumstances I would have let it go, confronting a gang of teenagers in a dark corner of a car park isn't advisable, there's no telling what they'd do.

Not this time. That same something urged me to follow.

"Give it back, guys," I said casually, figuring a placid tone might be more amenable.