Theatre.

The old theatre sat on the road that went way back into the woods. A road that had no name. It stopped at the water’s edge and you would have to cross a small river either by boat or by dock. The theatre is where the ventriloquists and famous singers show up and strut their stuff. The most favored of them was without a doubt the old man. A story teller. He came only once a month to tell a new, usually horrifying story. Stories that would make the skin crawl and the bones chill. Stories that define a whole new meaning for everything scary.

One day, on the last night of the theatre’s showings before it would forever close down, the old man returned for one last, horrific story. As he walked onto stage, everyone went quiet. In his hand was a match. In the other, a candle. He set the candle in the center of the stage and lit the match. “Fire. A great source of evil. A great source of good,” he said. He lit the candle and put out the match. He looked at the crowd and cleared his throat. “You see,” he began, “fire is much like you and me. It can cause pain. It can cause joy. It spreads out across the land taking whatever it wants, and yet it has weaknesses.” He pulled out a cup of water from the side of the stage and stood by the candle. He raised his arm and the room went dark. Only the candle was lit. “Water. A great source of power. A great source of calmness.” He threw the water on the candle and the room went pitch black.

A baby started crying. “Don’t be afraid. Much like fire, humans are always capable of bringing light, even in the most darkest of time.” Even though nobody could see it, he raised his hand over the candle and the fire restarted. People looked on in awe. “But much like fire, we bring darkness in the most lightest of times.” And with that, he raised his arm and the theatre began on fire. Doors locked. Windows closed. The building began to burn down. People were running about and screaming and with another arm raising, the fire blew out. Doors swung open. Glass windows shattered. “And much like water, we can always be there to stop the darkness.” And water then flooded in the theatre.

People were trying to escape but were swept away from the theatre, into the river just outside. Most drowned in the water. When the police arrived, the old man was gone. All that was left, was the candle. Light flickering in the dark theatre.