Sunless Cinema [COMPLETE]

III: A Soundstage Massacre

Teddy stood outside the soundstage entrance, ready to go in guns-blazing. He wasn't sure if Lemoine was still in there or not but, if she was, she was going to get a faceful of lead, that was for sure. He patted down his pockets to see if there was anything that would be more effective. All that was left in his pocket was his harmonica and two pennies. There was nothing there that would help him. 

There was no more delaying the next step. 

Teddy opened the door enough that he could slip through it. 

Everything in him was screaming that he should forget about Lemoine and hightail it out of there, clear in the other direction. The thing was, he didn't have the faintest recollection of how to get out of here. Ralph was the one who knew his way around. Even if he did leave, he wasn't sure that he would have taken the opportunity. There was too much at stake here-- lives and people-- and he felt responsible. 

Those three men in the editing room were dead because of him. it was the same with everyone on the soundstage. This was his fault. This was some sort of karma or cosmic retribution or something, he was sure of it. 

The scene on the soundstage was far worse than the one before. Everyone was dead. Some clearly had been running away, toward the exit doors or the safety of a dressing room, but no one escaped. Nobody made it. 

The lead actress of whatever film they were working on (some science fiction monster talkie, no doubt) was imapled on a piece of picket fence from the set. She towered above the sea of bodies like a centerpiece sculpture over a red-and-black holiday meal. Brain matter was on one of the camera lenses, where a cameraman was slumped over, leaning on his equipment. He was going to fall; Teddy didn't know when. 

Something was dripping from the ceiling, but he couldn't figure out where it was from. Intestines were hung like party streamers from the set's doorways and the chairs off-set. Teddy barely noticed the body parts and organs strewn about like confetti and garbage after a party. His eyes were drawn to the still-writhing body of the lead actor, who was face-down on the set's fake grass. He suffered for a moment more before he gave up the ghost and died like the rest of them. 

Teddy took in a panicked breath. Tears, salty and wet, slid down his face toward his open, shuddering mouth. It took everything in him not to scream or to puke; it took everything in him to not take off running. He put one foot in front of the other, still staring at the carnage all around him. There was something slick under his foot and he slipped. Teddy fell, head over heels, onto his back. 

There was the source of the dripping: a light technician he spoke to exactly once before. He was slumped over the rafters, folded in half and skewered like a cherry tomato. Some of the black sludge Lemoine left behind-- whatever it was-- slid down his cheeks and chin, gathered at his dislocated shoulder, dripped, turned over and over itself in the air, and landed with a wet smack on Teddy's cheek. 

He let out a choked sob; he shoved his dirty, shaking fist into his mouth. It tasted like blood, sweat, tears, and brine. 

Slowly, tenuously, Teddy pushed himself up from the ground. It was apparent that what he slipped on (a puddle of blood that was still raining from above) wasn't the only hazard to his progress. There were bodies in the way, and overturned tables, and puddles and puddles of that strange sludge. The only thing in the room that wasn't touched by it was a single lemon at the bottom of a wicker basket. There was another that had rolled near a makeup technician whose face was obscured by the thick black hair over it. 

Teddy closed his eyes for a second, breathed deep through his mouth, and took another step toward the door on the other side of the soundstage. Just like all the others, it was slightly ajar and the river of peach-and-black continued. At this point, it was thinning and separating. In some places, it was reduced to a few drops that fell and splattered on the tile every so often. It was still enough for him to follow. 

The side door of the soundstage opened; Teddy froze mid-step. 

"Hey, what the fuck?" Ralph stood in the doorway, backed by the afternoon sun. His voice conveyed more than horror. It was full of shock, disgust, fear, and... was that concern? Teddy had never heard Ralph be concerned before. 

He turned slowly to face him. Teddy knew his face was betraying more guilt than it should have. "Hey, Ralph. So, I know what you're thinking--" 

"Hey, Teddy. What the hell did you do?" 

"It's a funny story." Teddy grinned weakly; he knew that he wasn't fooling anyone. "So, you know that girl we kinda-sorta kidnapped?" 

"Yeah, I know the girl. Where is she? Don't tell me you killed her, too!" Ralph reached into the pocket of his vest. 

Teddy knew Ralph was reaching for his gun, so he lowered his own. "I know what this looks like, but I promise, I didn't do it. I.. She knocked me out, she's not-- Ralph, she's not human. She's something else, she's... unnatural. Otherworldly. Lemoine, she... She knocked me out and..." 

Ralph raised his gun as Teddy took a step toward him. "I don't believe you, and, frankly? I'm disgusted. Don't take another step or I'll send you somewhere far worse than the hoosegow!" 

Teddy had never been good with words. He failed every oral report back when he was in school and his skills hadn't improved since he left. Knowing that he wasn't getting his point across, he lifted the small flop of his hair that was dried to his forehead with all the blood and sweat to expose the incisions from Lemoine's fingernails. "She grabbed my head and knocked me out. You have to believe me, Ralph!" 

"I... I don't know what to believe, Teddy." 

"She's not human! When I woke up, she was killing someone and-- I feel responsible, see? I have to put a stop to this." 

Ralph lowered his gun, but didn't put it away. "Fine. Where is she?" 

"Down there." Teddy gestured toward the other door with his head. "She's got this sludge stuff? And she leaves it behind." 

With a frown, Ralph stepped inside and closed the door with his foot. The sound of it was deafening. He marched silently across to the door Teddy was trying to, expertly dodging the worst of this crimson swamp. He nodded as a gesture toward the food table. "What's with the lemons?" 

"I don't know?" 

"Pick one up; we can bring it with us. It might be useful." 

"Sure thing." Teddy bent over, picked up a lemon, and tossed it like a baseball when he stood. He caught it in his hand, tossed it again, then put it into his pocket. 

Ralph rolled his eyes. "Come on, genius. Let's get going." He wrenched the door open all the way; Teddy followed him into the next hall. peepeepoopoo.