Sarn and Danes

Finding.

You sigh as you open your eyes, staring up at the tall stage in front of you. It had been a while since you first came here, into what you believe is the infinite theatre. You weren't exactly sure of anything about your situation. How you got here, when you got here, how long you've been here. You just know that you woke up one day in this dim theatre in the front row, with rows and rows and rows and rows of continuous red seats. Continuous darkness. You had tried to walk up the rows of seats. It never ended.

You think it might've been a bit ago, a while, maybe? Definitely in the past, though, that you were introduced to Danes and Sarn. This is their talk show. They have brought you here to their talk show. The first day (was it a day?) they showed up on the stage, opened the curtains, and then you knew of their existence. Sarn and Danes are what seemed to be immortal beings, judging on how they call you, the audience, mortals. Even if it's only you (or are there more here?). They said they'd have another one soon. When will that come?

Danes and Sarn look like if a toddler's scribble had been slapped into a mortal plain. Literally, you were not exaggerating. They looked 2d and everything. You're not sure how tall they are, since you've only seen them on stage. It's been a while since that, though. You were quite lonely. You wandered through the shadows of the theatre. The farthest you got was where you couldn't even see light from the stage. But you had to go back to the front row since you were feeling exhausted and freezing. The farther away you get from the stage, you've learned, the colder it gets. Perhaps you should try going again?

You get up from your seat, seat 8. You stretch, you had been in a sitting position for a while. You're not exactly sure how long, since you have no way to count the time (even if you count in your head. You just... can't.), but you know it's been a while from how your spine pops when you stand. You look to your right. You hadn't gone that way before. Perhaps you should try?

You start walking. Your footsteps echo, as they usually do. You zone out as you walk, thinking about life in the theatre. It was dark, cold, and lonely. Very quiet. You ponder how you're even still alive. You haven't eaten or drank anything since you got here. How long have you been here for?

Hell if you knew. You had many questions, how could you not have questions? This place is a mystery. You would really love to know how time worked here. Did time pass? Seriously, will you ever get answers to your questions? It seems sort of hopeless.

You look behind you to see how far you've gotten. Pretty far, you'd say. You can barely see the stage light. You look in front of you, even if you can't see anything but black up ahead, and continue. The more you move, the more heat you'll feel. Don't think about how cold it is. Don't think about how warm the front row is. Don't you dare think about how comfortable it is. The dark is just as comfy.

It's getting colder. It's so cold. You start to run. You need to find what's hidden amongst the shadows, you just need to. You need answers. You need answers.

You gasp when you bump against something. You pause, completely and utterly surprised. You feel along it. It's a wall. You found a wall. You found a wall! What's along the walls in a theatre? Emergency exits. You might be able to find an exit.

You hurriedly feel along the wall, further up, feeling excited. You might finally be able to escape from this hell hole. You look up. You can see a faint, glowing red in the distance. This is it. This is it!

You run. You can't help it, it's cold and you just want out. You get there. It's the exit. You're at the exit. You stare at the metal door in front of you. Holy shit. It's the exit. You push it open with all your might. You're getting out. You're getting out.

You pause when you hear a microphone tap. The same tap you heard for the first talk show. Your breath hitches as you hear Sarn. "Mortal? Where'd you go?"

You want to move. You want to leave. You want to push this door open and get out. But you can't move. "There will be serious consequences. Get back here right now. You wouldn't want to see what will happen if you don't come back."

You clench your fist and unclench it. Just push open the door. You can't move. You can't move. Why can't you move. You can't even move your fingers. What the hell?

"Oh human~" You can hear it taunt. You gulp. This is it. This is how you die. In a dirty, dark, theatre. With nobody, absolutely no one. You want to cry, but you can't find yourself being able to.

"Come out. Come on. Come back to the talk show. Or else..." you feel anger bubbling inside you. You're right next to the exit. Right in front of it. Why can't you leave?

"I know the shadows like the back of my hand. I can find you easily. What you'll go through won't be pretty." You hear footsteps echoing. They're not that far away, you think. But how would you know? They're definitely getting closer. JUST OPEN THE DOOR COME ON GET OUT GET OUT YOU'RE RIGHT THERE-

The footsteps stop. "By the exit? Trying to escape our talk show? How rude... Perhaps I shall teach you some manners." You look around you. You only see darkness.

And then there's a hand on your neck. You're on the ground. You've been thrown to the ground. You think your head has hit something, because you can feel something, maybe blood, pouring out. Did you scream? You can't remember. You feel dizzy. Like you can't even move. And you feel numb, static noise kind of numb. You can't tell if you closed your eyes, since it's dark everywhere. You feel yourself fade out of consciousness.