´óÏó´«Ã½

The dark stage was alight with colours, colours of every position on the spectrum, every colour of the rainbow, all whizzing all around the vast space. Then through the chaos, a single thick white spotlight, shining straight down, illuminating an empty space. The reds, and blues, and greens, and yellows, they all died away, leaving only one single great beam of white light. A beam so white it was almost heavenly. Then the band started playing, sounding more like an orchestra, and into the light came an immense puppet, taking up the full height of the stage. The puppet moved, the music played, and the show went on. Everything timed perfectly, controlled with the utmost precision from above. Controlled by the boy who had spent most of his life in this great theatre. The boy whose mother had taken him to see his first show at the age of ten, and he had never missed a show since. Not one. But now, over thirty years later he watched the stage from a different angle. He watched from above. And from above he controlled. For the power he had never had as a child. When he lost his father. When he lost his mother. When he felt alone. When he went from home to home, his life completely controlled by others. That power, that control, he now had in full, and so much more. He was the master of puppets, and he ruled over this stage. This world was his to control.
The music stopped, the puppets retreated, and the lights died. There was a silence for a few seconds, then an almighty applause. And the controller returned to the shadows.

Outside cars rolled past. People sped away with their lives. Blissfully unaware of the spectacle occurring so close to them. The old theatre forgotten. After all, it was almost ten years since its last show.

*

'Look, I'm not going in, it's probably dangerous in there.'
'Fine, you go ahead, it makes no difference to us, just keep your mouth shut.'
To their great surprise the huge doors swung open with very little push, although creaking loudly. And all of them crept inside, led on by curiosity, hidden by the cover of the night.

The floor boards creaked louder than the door, the awful noise even echoing a little in front of them.

'Shh, he might hear you.' And they tried to walk quieter, slowing their pace, but none of them really believing that old kids story. They moved on, working with the little light emitted from the feeble torch and feeling their way forward. Travelling along the long corridors and it's turns until they felt the walls on both sides vanish, and found themselves in a much more open space, but somehow it felt no safer.

Shock, as the hall was filled with light, revealing all. For the tiniest moment they thought the audience was filled with people, but upon closer inspection it was clear the many wires from above led to fine puppets.

All three of them waited for the others to move, unsure of what to do, but eventually cautiously crawling on. They all looked around, attempting to take in what they were seeing, then for the first time looking forward, to the stage. Somehow all three of them realised they had gone too far, that they should not be here. But just as they silently turned to retreat, the enormous blood red curtains began to swing open. And they sprinted to the back of the hall as fast as they could, attempting to find where they had entered from, unsuccessfully . They didn't notice as a tall figure emerged from the stage, swinging through the air, avoiding its friends from below as it went. Hurtling towards the intruders at the back. And it wielded its axe, with one swipe. The audience had three new members.

*

The daily shows of wonder continued at the great theatre for many years, until the outside world collapsed within. No one even noticed the many broken pieces within the rubble as it was cleared away. But the last show had been played. Outside, the master controlled nothing. And as the walls collapsed around him, he cried for the first time in many, many years. He was broken. He could control no more. His eternal life as a puppet began.