Welcome Home

Breathe, Jimmy. Breathe.

A lanky, haggard man waltzed down a drab and winding corridor carrying a briefcase swinging in his hand with every step he took. Upon approaching a red door with a ruffled, silver star plastered in the center, the man uttered a deep sigh.

"Home Sweet Home."

The door creaked open, revealing the old theater's dressing room that was still in the same state of disrepair as it had been the last time the man had the displeasure of working at the theater. The moldy, worn wallpaper, accompanied by the usual aroma of mothballs and aged leather brought back a surge of memories. The man stared into the broken and dirty mirror, his dark blue eyes peering back at him.

"God... look at yourself, Jimmy," he groaned. Even after preparing for the day, the purple circles that enveloped his eyes still shined and the discernable crow's feet were more abundant than ever. Perhaps it was the stress of performing again, especially with him, that sent Jimmy into a spiral of tension which did nothing to help his already aging face.

"Hey, chucklehead, you gonna let me outta here or am I gonna be starin' into the darkness of this smelly old case the rest of the night?!"

Jimmy took a gulp of saliva and carefully dropped his case to let out the screaming demon. The case, covered in worn stickers that symbolized every walk that the two of them took together, was almost as beaten up as the insidious wooden fiend that lay inside. From everywhere to a horror theme park to a wizard's fantastical stage to a camp in the middle of the woods - the two had been everywhere together. Performing show after show, causing smile upon smile. It was a dream... at least, that's what Jimmy tried to convince himself. Unfortunately, it was nothing but nightmares.

As he unlocked the case, Jimmy was overwhelmed with a desire to leave and never look back; to leave the case locked and start his life anew. But as much as he wanted to, Jimmy was forever bound to the wooden menace that ruined his life and owns his life. Even if he could leave, what if someone else were to find it and unleash the same curse that befell him? He couldn't let that happen. Not again.

"What is taking you so long, Jimmy?! Did you go braindead while opening the lock or somethin'? Speed it up, will ya!!!"

Jimmy whimpered. He bit his bottom lip, which quivered anxiously. He unlocked the briefcase and before he was able to open it himself, the little demon forced the lid open, smacking Jimmy directly in the nose. He gasped in pain, blood trickled hastily from the man's nostrils.

The wooden creature's limbs made a crackling noise as he stretched them outward. He rolled his head around and cracked his slender neck, uttering a sigh of relief. The wooden menace was nothing more than a ventriloquist's dummy on the outside, but within the confines of that vessel hid something much more sinister. The dummy's head turned to look at Jimmy, whose nose continued to bleed through his hands.

"Yikes, Jimmy. I said you were goin' braindead, but I didn't think it was actually true. Clean yourself up, slave. We've gotta show to do."

The dummy's mouth clicked with every word he spoke. Jimmy, sweating from the stress and nose bloodied, quickly scrambled to find a piece of cloth to clean himself.

"Just use your bowtie. It's already red anyway! HA!"

Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed, but he begrudgingly ripped the tie from his neck and wiped himself off. The dummy comments got stale the first elven-thousand times he used them. The clashing reds on the silky tie made Jimmy wince. Nothing was worse than seeing his own blood. Why would he listen to him... again?

"I guess I can go without a tie," Jimmy muttered under his breath. There was more that Jimmy wished he could say, but he knew the dummy would hear him. He took a seat on the musty red couch that took up a third of the dressing room/