The Poltergeist of the Theatre

(3rd Person)

"This is horrible!" Mary Chase was pacing back and forth in her dressing room, burning red in anger. "You won't let me perform, all because of some 500 year old dead guy?!"

A short stocky gentleman across from her is wiping his brow with a cloth, looking apologetic. "M-ma'am, please, it's ridiculous, I know, but we need to abide by the theatre's rules..." He stutters through his handlebar moustache. Mary sighs aggressively, "But you OWN the theatre now, you make the rules! Mr. Julius, you're being absurd with this whole curse nonsense."

Mr. Julius shuffles his feet, hands clasped at his plum-colored suit jacket lapels nervously, "I wouldn't say that to the old owners who've gone against the theatre's rules..." He mumbles, muttering something about new chorus girls, then raises his Brooklyn-accented voice to address her, "Chase, sweetheart! I swear to you, the tradition stands, and the Arpeggio Theatre curse is quite serious."

Arpeggio Theatre is quite the anomaly around the rumor-mill of musicians and performers, Attracting those whom avidly love the art. And quite frankly, it's the only thing the small town has. Stuck on the borders of Iowa and Illinois, the small town of Buttersdale looks more at home in the fifties than nowadays, though Mary assumes it to be a tourist gimmick. The only thing that stands out most of all is the pastel-colored theatre that looks like it was ripped out of a comic book and blown up into a five-storey building.

The owner that built and ran the place was very mysterious. Nobody knew his name, and seemingly remained unaged on his tall-yet-bony body of his (According to the portraits around the place, that is) but it was said that he insisted on being called the Puppeteer. One day, he sort of vanished before a play was about to begin, telling the last person that saw him that he "finally found the magic of theatre, and how to use it."

The play performed at the time was reportedly extremely perverse, to the point of being supernatural, but for some reason, nobody questioned the apparent effects that were displayed, and lustfully watched with their pants down. They don't even remember the subject matter, which is extremely odd since they can't forget what it was like. Though most that actually hear about it just assume it just an elaborate joke, and find that when an actor or other member of staff 'breaks the rules,' the play ends up being forgotten, and the breaker of said rule mysteriously disappears. Mary is one of the many that believes it's merely a propaganda rumor to lessen the theatre's rep, and the disappearances are just the person going into hiding for ruining their credentials in the performance world.

Mr. Julius is the newest owner whom managed to buy it from the old one, and brought his personal headliner with him. normally he's a boisterous man, overconfident and buying people out, even owning actors for his own shows he wants to produce. Now, however, he seems almost scared.

Mary groans and checks the flyer that was at the makeup station. On it says the various special conditions that apparently all headliners must obey lest the Puppeteer comes and changes the show to his own whims. The rules are usually perverse in nature, demanding;

1. That any lead actress must be sexually appealing at all times. Revealing clothing is a must while on the job and must be kept in shape.
2. That the first act in the theatre for new up-and-comers is the houses' signature performance; "Strings of the Independent Puppet."
3. Absolutely at no point should she perform any play until she publicly does the house act.
4. The stagehands must NOT be conversed with or interacted beyond what is necessary for the play.
5. The stage rafters are forbidden to all except the stagehands.
6. Never, under any circumstances, should the lead actress EVER enter a seat in the audience. Should she wish to watch a play performed, she must watch from the left balcony close to the stage.

Mary is quite incredulous at the absurdity at these specific rulings, and finds them rather sexist if she must say. While she does fit the criteria of being quite appealing, having it be an underlying requirement kind of puts a bad taste in her mouth. At age 28, Mary has kept a lean and fit body; assisted from her days of ballet classes and regular workouts. She has dainty features, making her look innocent and fragile, but she acts anything but. Her current outfit that can described as business attire does little to help her sweet appearance. She also mostly kept her silken brown hair in a pixie cut, to keep it both manageable and to lessen her duties on applying wigs for specific roles.

"Look, I am NOT going to abide by these weird rules. I would settle with little traditions such as the first play needing to be such and such, but this script-" Mary raises the papers to the pudgy little man's face between two fingers from above it, like picking up a piece of soaked garbage, "-I didn't even need to read all of it to know that this tripe is raunchy material, and quite offensive to my reputation; Which you KNOW I-"

Mr. Julius cut her tirade short with a stammering reply, "-H-h-have built it ever since you were little, I know. But, I tried to find a way around it, trying to maybe ask if we cut out the...saucy parts..." Mary scoffed and muttered enough for him to hear, "You'd need to cut out ninety percent of it..." "But even the stagehands at the time looked at me weirdly for even muttering such a thing to myself."

The stagehands in question are quite odd. All of them seem normal from a distance, until you see that they all look scarily alike, like a cloning machine went around pumping out blonde pretty women with voluptuous proportions and skimpy 'secretary' outfits. They worked diligently, as if they had only their duties in their life, wore wide-eyed neutral expressions at all times and rarely spoke with their faux-Swedish accent.

Mary once again sighed, throwing the offending bundle of papers behind her. What she didn't see was that it had swivelled in the air and softly thudded perfectly placed on the dressing room side-table. Mary raised to her full 5'8" stature and breathed deep. Then, she thought of something. She was very skeptical about some old scrawny dead guy using magic to punish her; as most would be; and smirked down at her long-time agent.

"You know, I think you need to learn that there's no such thing as magic my old friend." And Mary walked out, going in stride to find a rule to break. The door slammed behind her as she walked out, but thought that it may be just rushing out of it was enough to swing it closed, and wandered off, expecting Mr. Julius would chase after her even with the sudden door closing.

Mr. Julius tried to chase after her, but the door (as previously stated) closed. But unfortunately, no matter how hard he pulled, the door with no lock would not even budge.