One-shots of the Peculiar

The Show of Terror

(the idea of this story came from my friend who's also a great nonsense writer. He thought his writing homework topic was too boring, so he turned it into a MPHFPC fanfic.)

Abel had been preparing for Jeremy's show for months.

Jeremy's show provided people with all kinds of peculiar talents a stage to be seen by the world, which can help Abel achieve his dream of becoming a singer. If his performance is good enough, of course. Despite the previous hard work, Abel felt nervous. the performers before him did all kinds of amazing tricks, which didn't make Abel feel any better. When it's finally his turn, Abel had an urge to throw up. He couldn't even stand still on the stage. Finally, overwhelmed by anxiety, he fell to the ground.

Then he heard the crowd gasp in amazement.

Standing up in confusion, he realized that he was surrounded by five of his replicas shaped with light and shadow. Somehow the light bent to his subconscious. He let his conscious take over the control, manipulating the light with his will. He made the light replicas stand in the five different corners on the stage and started singing. The five alternate Abel began singing, too, like a choir of photons.

Everyone was lost in his song except a judge with sunglasses. He looked at Abel with a weird satisfaction on his face. Looking at the cold smile on his face, Abel felt chills go through his spine. Abel couldn't see the eyes behind the dark lenses, making him more uncomfortable. And why will someone need sunglasses in such a dark theater?

Abel tried no to think too much and focus on his song.

*

After the show ended, the judge came to Abel. "We will talk privately," he said. His tone was firm, as if giving an order instead of suggestion. Abel figured that's probably just how some great judges talk, so he followed him without any doubt.

Abel was dragged into a small room, two armed guards blocking the exit. The judge grabbed his shoulder, turned Abel around to face him. Face to face with the judge, Abel could tell something was wrong behind the dark lenses he's wearing, but couldn't be sure what exactly is making him uncomfortable. 

"Where's your loop?" the judge asked.

"Sorry sir, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play game with me. I founded this pathetic show to find people like you, and I have heard this kind of boring excuses too many times. Now I will ask you again. Where's your loop? And who is your ymbryne?"

"I really have no idea what you're talking about, sir. I just realized what I'm capable of today—"

"Fine, if you can't give me any information, at least your soul still has some use." The judge interrupted as he pressed a button on the wall. A gate slowly opened, revealing the stench of rotten meat. Abel tried to run, but the judge pushed him straight through the door.

With the faint light from the room, Abel could see a humanoid shadow lurking quietly on the wall. He move toward the exit, but an invisible force choke his throat and dragged him further into the shadow. Abel wanted to scream, be he couldn't make a sound. The invisible force pulled him up, facing the judge and the guards, the only spectators of this silent murder.

As if enjoying an intriguing performance, the judge took off his sunglasses.

The last thing Abel saw before an invisible force crushed his skull was the pupilless blank eyes of the man that used to be his judge.