I looked all around me. The theater was already black in anticipation for the show. Rows and rows of filled seats entered my view. Only one seat remained and a woman was kicking the back of it. Wonderful.
She stared at me with a strange attention not usually given to a stranger. The curtain rose as I sat and revealed the entertainment for the night. A female puppeteer. The puppeteer sat before a large screen with a puppet akin to pinoccio only there was something strange about it.
The eyes. Why are the eyes black?
Puppet and puppeteer turned to me revealing the black eyeless sockets of the puppet, and a tremor shot through my body seizing command of my limbs.
The throng sitting in their seats focus intently ahead as the puppet moves. Looking back on stage the once black lifeless empty sockets of the puppet transform before my eyes. Trianges standing atop one another; the black widow, fueled blood red with the fires of hell bewitch the throng. Behind this black widow the puppeteer is gone replaced by a slender feminine figure with lizard skin and the wings of a bat. A ear splitting wail escapes the demon’s lips as it looks directly at me with the same soul piercing red eyes as the black widow.
She speaks through the crowd. A hundred strong whisper to me in unison.
Soon my child, soon.


Picture by Jason Engle.

Engle’s Website



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