Cogs Of Fate

The Stage Is Set

Standing out in the hall, Flynn ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. He could still hear the performance continuing on, though it was muffled through the walls that separated them. The door to the box opened and Bell slipped out. He cocked his head at Flynn. "Is everything all right?"

Flynn gave him a curt nod, standing straighter. "I'm fine. I simply needed a moment."

Bell's eyes narrowed on him. "It's quite the performance, is it not?" Flynn nodded and Bell added, "Ye relate to the words."

Flynn knew it wasn't a question but a statement. He could see that Bell had figured more about his personal demons than the ones he lived with at the bunker had. He opened his mouth to retort when movement down the far hall caught his attention.

Bell glanced over and spotted a dark figure disappearing into a workers' corridor. He turned his attention back to Flynn, thinking nothing of it until he saw Flynn's concentrated gaze. "What is it?"

Flynn held a hand out to silently tell Bell to remain where he was as he began to make his way over to the corridor. He heard footsteps clicking behind him and Flynn fought the urge to roll his eyes, knowing Bell didn't stay put as he instructed. He stopped by the door the man had darted into and pulled it open. He glanced inside carefully, seeing nothing but a long dark hallway with small lights illuminating through windows.

"It's probably a stagehand," Bell offered.

Flynn shook his head. "It didn't look like one..."

"What did he look like?"

Flynn glanced over his shoulder to look at Bell, who clearly hadn't gotten a good look at the figure. Flynn knew if Bell had seen the man, he would have been the first to offer going down the hallway in pursuit. "He had a long cloak over his head," Flynn stated. "I didn't get a good look at him."

Bell's brows knitted together. "Why would a stage hand wear a cloak?" He motioned to the opened door. "Perhaps we should take a look to ease your curiosity."

Without arguing, Flynn entered into the corridor; Bell close behind him. They navigated the darkened corridor together. The singing grew louder. The two realized they were entering the overlook of the dome to the auditorium. They had an eagle's eye view of the whole audience with clear sightlines of the stage where Christina Nilsson remained centered as they glanced through small porthole windows that lined the darkened corridor.

A bright light to their right illuminated the dark corridor briefly before the sound of a door closing brought the darkness back, causing them both to glance over their shoulders. "Looks like we've found our culprit," Bell whispered to Flynn with a pat on the back.

Flynn led the way along the catwalk toward the door. Reaching for the handle, he found that it was locked. Bell muttered, "How odd that he would lock himself out."

As the two turned to exchange glances, horrified screams erupted within the auditorium. They rushed over to the porthole windows, staring down at the audience. The crowds below were scrambling out of their seats, running down the packed aisles to escape the room. The massive crystal chandelier started to shake, the crystals rattling against one another before it broke off of its line, falling straight for the stage.

Christina Nilsson bent down, scooping her skirts up to rush away as quickly as she could. The glass and candle chandelier swung down, breaking the ornate ceiling overhead as it crashed. The candles fell, igniting the wooden stage. Stagehands rushed out from behind the side curtains to put the flames out.

Within the corridor Flynn and Bell stood in, they heard another scream from inside their hallway. They turned and rushed toward the sounds. Rounding the corner into another large stage room, an extra from the show cowered in the distant corner as they approached. Their eyes landed on the weight that held the chandelier up. Beneath the seven-ton weight, they spotted a pair of legs sticking out. Blood pooled out across the splintered wood floor, creating a river of crimson as it poured down the seams of the floorboards.