Casting Shadows Read online
Page 6
squealing in delight when she spotted her girlfriends in the reception.
?
"Sign here, here and here," the woman said, tapping the paper and then thrusting it towards him.
Ben took a pen from the table and signed where he had been told. "Are you a werewolf?" he asked, trying to make polite conversation.
"Of course not," she said. "There's a full moon due, do I look like a werewolf? I'm just here to sign you in." She took the paper back from him and eyed his signature.
"Go through that door," she said, pointing behind her. "And wait at the top of the hill."
"Easy as that," Ben said, "Right!" He grinned at the woman and she blinked and then looked away. Ben sighed and headed for the door.
?
"Ben, where are you going?!" Honey asked, chasing after him. She grabbed his arm and made him stop.
Ben looked at Honey and then back at her workmates in the hall. The music was so loud it made his head hurt and he couldn't stand the sound of drunken laughter. He imagined some idiot pouring beer into the speakers and the whole sound system blowing up and killing them all.
"I'm just nipping out for some air," he said. "You stay and enjoy yourself, I won't be too long." Hopefully the place would blow up and kill them all while he was safely out of the way. He offered Honey a weak smile.
"Okay," she said. "Don't go far, alright?" She kissed him on the cheek and then turned back to the party.
Ben put his hand into his trouser pocket and felt for his crumpled newsletter. "I won't," he said quietly, and then he left the building.
Ben walked down the street, reading the newsletter again. "Why am I even considering this?" he muttered to himself. He wondered if he was going crazy. Or maybe he was ill. "Doctors, first thing tomorrow," he told himself.
He stopped walking when he reached the address that was on the newsletter, though nowhere did it mention anything at all about the building being creepy looking.
Ben realised that it was more than likely that Immortal Jim was a psychopath, sending out newsletters to lure his unsuspecting victims to their death. He dithered outside the building, waiting until someone else entered before he followed them inside.
?
Ben shifted a little on the grass. The wolf howled again from the valley below and he got to his feet, wondering if it really was too late to change his mind. The sun had set completely now and a silver moon hung in its place, hidden slightly behind a thin veil of clouds.
He had mud on his smart trousers. That was annoying. Ben brushed at his backside and wondered if Honey was missing him. Probably not, he thought. She was probably drunk and had her tongue down some other guy's throat. Well he'd soon stop that; he'd rip out the guy's throat. And Honey's. And everyone else's at that stupid party.
Ben grinned and as the wolf appeared at the crest of the hill, he turned to embrace it.
When the animal snarled and pulled itself up to its full height, standing on its hind legs, Ben screamed. And he ran.
Cloak
by Jo Robertson
I saw you again the other night
Shrouded in that sickly bar-room light
Smoking and watching the maudlin band
That cigarette held like a gun in your hand
When I came in the room you didn't look around
The clatter of glasses, a crystalline sound,
Merged in with the jazz from the sticky floored stage
Your ratty cord overcoat feathered with age
Reached out to me now across the jazz and the gloom
Your haze briefly bloomed as it circled the room
I couldn't see your face as I walked into your smoke
It buried your features like a steel-grey cloak.
Whistling in the Theatre
by Joleen Kuyper
Ren?e read over the audition section of the script again, glancing around as a draught from somewhere seemed to rustle through the auditorium, whistling through cracks in the walls, she supposed. The fact it sounded like whistling at all was enough to unnerve her.
"Nasty day out," said a man beside her, grabbing one of the pages for her as a stronger gust caught them.
Ren?e nodded.
The man grinned and extended his hand. "Jimmy," he said.
Ren?e took his hand and shook it politely, suppressing a shiver. His hand was icy cold. "Ren?e," she said.
"So what part are you reading for then?" Jimmy asked, folding over his own script. "Female lead or female shadow?"
"Shadow," Ren?e replied, smiling more warmly now. "It's a great part. What about you?"
"I'm going to chance both," Jimmy said with a grin. "Both the male parts anyway, that is, I don't think my skills are good enough to pass me off as a woman, even one that's a shadow!"
Ren?e smiled politely. Jimmy grinned, and after a moment Ren?e turned back to her script.
"You heard the stories about this place? That it's haunted?" Jimmy asked after a minute, breaking Ren?e's concentration.
She shook her head. "I don't believe in ghosts," she said confidently, though she did glance around. The shadows around the sides of the stage did look especially dark, even with the house lights up and plenty of people around.
"Yeah, probably just urban legend," Jimmy grinned.
"Ren?e Burns?" a small, wiry woman carrying a clipboard called from the wings.
"That's me," Ren?e said gratefully, getting to her feet. She felt a cold touch on her arm as she gathered her stuff.
"Break a leg, and hopefully I'll see you again soon," Jimmy said, giving her a warm smile.
"Thanks. You too," Ren?e replied, then hurried up the narrow, creaky steps at the side of the stage to go after the woman, feeling slightly annoyed at Jimmy for distracting her.
?
Ren?e walked slowly into the theatre, wondering if she'd mistaken the time. The corridor was silent and there didn't seem to be any heating on. She swung the heavy door into the auditorium open however, and saw a few people sitting at the front, some with their legs hanging over the stage, reading scripts. She let the door swing closed again behind her, but just as she let it go she heard a shrill whistle coming from somewhere near the stage, and jumped.
"Ren?e!" The wiry woman from the auditions appeared in front of her. "Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost!" she exclaimed.
Ren?e shuddered. "I... I just thought I heard a whistle," she said softly. Everyone looked up.
"Probably just the wind, it's an old building," the woman said, half reassuringly, half dismissive. "Everyone knows not to whistle in a theatre. I'm Lorraine," she added. "Grab a coffee, the director's running late, but we'll be doing the first read through in an hour or so."
Ren?e nodded, taking a deep breath, and walked to where a rickety table had been set up with a pot of coffee on it and a load of mugs. She poured some, looked around for milk, but couldn't find any and decided to drink it black.
"Hiya!" exclaimed a familiar voice behind her, making her jump. "Ren?e, isn't it?"
Ren?e turned and nodded.
"I'm Jimmy, remember, from the audition?" Jimmy asked, grinning broadly.
"Of course," Ren?e said politely.
"I got the Shadow part," Jimmy continued. He took Ren?e's arm and she shivered a bit. "This here is Martin, and Chlo?," he said, leading her over to the others.
"Hi, I'm Ren?e," Ren?e introduced herself, sitting down near Chlo?, who gave her a smile.
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Jimmy spoke up again. "So, what do you all think of the play?" he asked.
"This writer is the new Beckett," Martin replied knowledgeably. "I love the minimalism."
"What about you, Jimmy?" Chlo? asked. "What do you think?"
"I don't have a bloody clue," Jimmy answered honestly, with a grin. "A play about talking shadows that take over people's lives? Weird," he said, shaking his head. "But it pays the rent."
"Won't you find it hard to inhabit the character, if y
ou can't identify with him?" Ren?e asked.
"You follow the Stanislavski method?" Martin asked Ren?e.
She nodded. "I'm hardly an aficionado, but I find it helps, trying to fully embody the role, become it, let it become me," she told him.
"Stanis-what?" Jimmy asked, glancing from Ren?e to Martin with a puzzled look on his face.
"You haven't studied theatre?" Chlo? asked, turning to him.
Jimmy grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Used to do local amateur theatre, was told I was good at it so ended up doing a few proper parts that I got paid for, then when I lost me job I found out I'd been doing it long enough to get the equity card, so I went for it," he told the others. "Better than real work, as they say!" he chuckled.
Ren?e smiled politely, and turned back to Martin. "Where did you study?" she asked him.
"Trinity," he told her. "Graduated three years ago. What about you?"
"The Gaiety," Ren?e replied with a smile. She looked up when she heard another shrill whistle come from the wings. "None of you heard that?" she asked the others, confused.
"Heard what?" Chlo? asked. The men's faces were blank; Jimmy even looked slightly concerned.
"Must be imagining things," Ren?e said, forcing a smile; not wanting anyone to think she was crazy.
"You know there's a rumour this place is haunted?" Jimmy said.
Ren?e sighed, but Martin nodded enthusiastically. "I heard
?
"Sign here, here and here," the woman said, tapping the paper and then thrusting it towards him.
Ben took a pen from the table and signed where he had been told. "Are you a werewolf?" he asked, trying to make polite conversation.
"Of course not," she said. "There's a full moon due, do I look like a werewolf? I'm just here to sign you in." She took the paper back from him and eyed his signature.
"Go through that door," she said, pointing behind her. "And wait at the top of the hill."
"Easy as that," Ben said, "Right!" He grinned at the woman and she blinked and then looked away. Ben sighed and headed for the door.
?
"Ben, where are you going?!" Honey asked, chasing after him. She grabbed his arm and made him stop.
Ben looked at Honey and then back at her workmates in the hall. The music was so loud it made his head hurt and he couldn't stand the sound of drunken laughter. He imagined some idiot pouring beer into the speakers and the whole sound system blowing up and killing them all.
"I'm just nipping out for some air," he said. "You stay and enjoy yourself, I won't be too long." Hopefully the place would blow up and kill them all while he was safely out of the way. He offered Honey a weak smile.
"Okay," she said. "Don't go far, alright?" She kissed him on the cheek and then turned back to the party.
Ben put his hand into his trouser pocket and felt for his crumpled newsletter. "I won't," he said quietly, and then he left the building.
Ben walked down the street, reading the newsletter again. "Why am I even considering this?" he muttered to himself. He wondered if he was going crazy. Or maybe he was ill. "Doctors, first thing tomorrow," he told himself.
He stopped walking when he reached the address that was on the newsletter, though nowhere did it mention anything at all about the building being creepy looking.
Ben realised that it was more than likely that Immortal Jim was a psychopath, sending out newsletters to lure his unsuspecting victims to their death. He dithered outside the building, waiting until someone else entered before he followed them inside.
?
Ben shifted a little on the grass. The wolf howled again from the valley below and he got to his feet, wondering if it really was too late to change his mind. The sun had set completely now and a silver moon hung in its place, hidden slightly behind a thin veil of clouds.
He had mud on his smart trousers. That was annoying. Ben brushed at his backside and wondered if Honey was missing him. Probably not, he thought. She was probably drunk and had her tongue down some other guy's throat. Well he'd soon stop that; he'd rip out the guy's throat. And Honey's. And everyone else's at that stupid party.
Ben grinned and as the wolf appeared at the crest of the hill, he turned to embrace it.
When the animal snarled and pulled itself up to its full height, standing on its hind legs, Ben screamed. And he ran.
Cloak
by Jo Robertson
I saw you again the other night
Shrouded in that sickly bar-room light
Smoking and watching the maudlin band
That cigarette held like a gun in your hand
When I came in the room you didn't look around
The clatter of glasses, a crystalline sound,
Merged in with the jazz from the sticky floored stage
Your ratty cord overcoat feathered with age
Reached out to me now across the jazz and the gloom
Your haze briefly bloomed as it circled the room
I couldn't see your face as I walked into your smoke
It buried your features like a steel-grey cloak.
Whistling in the Theatre
by Joleen Kuyper
Ren?e read over the audition section of the script again, glancing around as a draught from somewhere seemed to rustle through the auditorium, whistling through cracks in the walls, she supposed. The fact it sounded like whistling at all was enough to unnerve her.
"Nasty day out," said a man beside her, grabbing one of the pages for her as a stronger gust caught them.
Ren?e nodded.
The man grinned and extended his hand. "Jimmy," he said.
Ren?e took his hand and shook it politely, suppressing a shiver. His hand was icy cold. "Ren?e," she said.
"So what part are you reading for then?" Jimmy asked, folding over his own script. "Female lead or female shadow?"
"Shadow," Ren?e replied, smiling more warmly now. "It's a great part. What about you?"
"I'm going to chance both," Jimmy said with a grin. "Both the male parts anyway, that is, I don't think my skills are good enough to pass me off as a woman, even one that's a shadow!"
Ren?e smiled politely. Jimmy grinned, and after a moment Ren?e turned back to her script.
"You heard the stories about this place? That it's haunted?" Jimmy asked after a minute, breaking Ren?e's concentration.
She shook her head. "I don't believe in ghosts," she said confidently, though she did glance around. The shadows around the sides of the stage did look especially dark, even with the house lights up and plenty of people around.
"Yeah, probably just urban legend," Jimmy grinned.
"Ren?e Burns?" a small, wiry woman carrying a clipboard called from the wings.
"That's me," Ren?e said gratefully, getting to her feet. She felt a cold touch on her arm as she gathered her stuff.
"Break a leg, and hopefully I'll see you again soon," Jimmy said, giving her a warm smile.
"Thanks. You too," Ren?e replied, then hurried up the narrow, creaky steps at the side of the stage to go after the woman, feeling slightly annoyed at Jimmy for distracting her.
?
Ren?e walked slowly into the theatre, wondering if she'd mistaken the time. The corridor was silent and there didn't seem to be any heating on. She swung the heavy door into the auditorium open however, and saw a few people sitting at the front, some with their legs hanging over the stage, reading scripts. She let the door swing closed again behind her, but just as she let it go she heard a shrill whistle coming from somewhere near the stage, and jumped.
"Ren?e!" The wiry woman from the auditions appeared in front of her. "Are you all right? You look like you've seen a ghost!" she exclaimed.
Ren?e shuddered. "I... I just thought I heard a whistle," she said softly. Everyone looked up.
"Probably just the wind, it's an old building," the woman said, half reassuringly, half dismissive. "Everyone knows not to whistle in a theatre. I'm Lorraine," she added. "Grab a coffee, the director's running late, but we'll be doing the first read through in an hour or so."
Ren?e nodded, taking a deep breath, and walked to where a rickety table had been set up with a pot of coffee on it and a load of mugs. She poured some, looked around for milk, but couldn't find any and decided to drink it black.
"Hiya!" exclaimed a familiar voice behind her, making her jump. "Ren?e, isn't it?"
Ren?e turned and nodded.
"I'm Jimmy, remember, from the audition?" Jimmy asked, grinning broadly.
"Of course," Ren?e said politely.
"I got the Shadow part," Jimmy continued. He took Ren?e's arm and she shivered a bit. "This here is Martin, and Chlo?," he said, leading her over to the others.
"Hi, I'm Ren?e," Ren?e introduced herself, sitting down near Chlo?, who gave her a smile.
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Jimmy spoke up again. "So, what do you all think of the play?" he asked.
"This writer is the new Beckett," Martin replied knowledgeably. "I love the minimalism."
"What about you, Jimmy?" Chlo? asked. "What do you think?"
"I don't have a bloody clue," Jimmy answered honestly, with a grin. "A play about talking shadows that take over people's lives? Weird," he said, shaking his head. "But it pays the rent."
"Won't you find it hard to inhabit the character, if y
ou can't identify with him?" Ren?e asked.
"You follow the Stanislavski method?" Martin asked Ren?e.
She nodded. "I'm hardly an aficionado, but I find it helps, trying to fully embody the role, become it, let it become me," she told him.
"Stanis-what?" Jimmy asked, glancing from Ren?e to Martin with a puzzled look on his face.
"You haven't studied theatre?" Chlo? asked, turning to him.
Jimmy grinned and shook his head. "Nope. Used to do local amateur theatre, was told I was good at it so ended up doing a few proper parts that I got paid for, then when I lost me job I found out I'd been doing it long enough to get the equity card, so I went for it," he told the others. "Better than real work, as they say!" he chuckled.
Ren?e smiled politely, and turned back to Martin. "Where did you study?" she asked him.
"Trinity," he told her. "Graduated three years ago. What about you?"
"The Gaiety," Ren?e replied with a smile. She looked up when she heard another shrill whistle come from the wings. "None of you heard that?" she asked the others, confused.
"Heard what?" Chlo? asked. The men's faces were blank; Jimmy even looked slightly concerned.
"Must be imagining things," Ren?e said, forcing a smile; not wanting anyone to think she was crazy.
"You know there's a rumour this place is haunted?" Jimmy said.
Ren?e sighed, but Martin nodded enthusiastically. "I heard