A Revolution for Humanity

The Mysterious, Cloaked Man

I took interest in him as he scooched his way through the tight gap between seated audience members and the row of chairs in front of him. His whispers pierced through the air of the opulent opera theater as he made his hasty apologies. He was incredibly polite, making sure not to seem rude in the awkward situation, but to my amusement, he was failing to do so. He was a tall fellow, cloaked in navy in his colonial military uniform. His clothing was strange compared to the general population, his drapes being modestly lavish which blended in just enough to glance over, but elegant enough to recognize high social status.

I studied his face a bit closer. I admit, he was handsome, aged nicely into his thirties. He carried himself with confidence and maturity with a clear understanding of the world. His black hair tucked neatly into a short ponytail, tied in place with red ribbon. His dark eyes told many stories, yet was painted with a layer of kindness as I observed from a viewing box just off above the mysterious man's designated floor seat.

With a final pardon, the man sat and waited for the show to begin. The stuffy theater was humming with chatter as people patiently watched the lights dim. The orchestra tuned their instruments one final time, and thus the show began with a strong belted note from the performer on stage as the curtains drew back with a whoosh of fabric.

I enjoyed the performance, admiring the musical talents of the participants of the night, as the emotional pieces struck my feelings. My eyes were fixed on the stage when I saw a twinge of movement at the edge of my peripheral. I glanced down into the audience, curious as to what was distracting me. Briefly, I witnessed a figure of dark cloth dashing towards my box and elegantly scaled its ornate column. Amazed and confused, I quietly observed this figure effortlessly climb its way around the perimeter of the theater, incredulously staying in the shadows enough to where no one would initially notice. I lost sight of the figure as it disappeared backstage, but caught glimpses of it traversing the background set of the stage scene, hopping and leaping from prop to prop. A couple jumps later, the figure hops into a different viewing box, illuminated and oppositely positioned diagonally from my own. A familiar caped, black-haired man takes a seat behind a white wigged man who clearly holds political status based on his attire.

They exchanged a couple words before the man dressed in navy thrusts his arm forward, palm first, in front of him and the wigged victim slumps in his chair. My eyes widened, bearing witness to a murder. In a panic, I rushed out of the box and began to make my way to the crime scene. Not thinking other than to intervene, I had no plan of what I was to do if I actually ran into the culprit, reacting purely out of fear and adrenaline. I turned down a couple halls searching for the same man who minutes earlier was simply apologizing for inconveniencing a few audience members.

As I near the box entrance, none other than the navy caped man swiftly exits the scene. He politely nods his head to a couple of passing ladies in a sick oxymoron of events as I pursue the killer.

Acting on pure shock I called out to him with attempted confidence, "Hey! Sir!" The man turns to glance at me then smoothly faces forward and quickened his pace. I follow suit. He nonchalantly ducked and weaved in and out of the forming crowd as people around began to grow restless. A scream could be heard down the hall behind us as I'm sure the body had just been discovered. The calm shock of the local crowd turned into panicked rushing towards the exits of the theater as I struggled to maintain sight of the culprit. It's as if he disappears before my very eyes as he blends into the screaming mob.

"Hey!" I uselessly call out "Excuse me? I saw the whole thing!"

At this point, I've completely lost sight of the man as I make my way to an exit being squished and shoved by multiple panicked strangers. I eventually squeeze out of the hall and am immediately met with a cold breeze of snowy air. The chill brings relief as the stuffy theater had begun to feel overwhelmingly hot due to the chaos. Frantically looking around, I see former audience members gathering outside in groups to find safety amongst themselves. I can't find the cloaked man... I concentrate harder.