Jake Milligan stood at the back of the empty stage, hands in his pockets and staring up at the dark red seats, which were slowly filling up with the audience. He was nervous for the upcoming production of "Chicago" Where he was playing Amos, the main characters husband, and he had to learn his song "Mr. Cellophane" all by himself.
"Jake, Jake!" The voice brought him back to earth. He turned to see his director, Clarice Hill, whispering at him. "Are you back with us!? I was just saying you need to get your ass in gear. The shows starting in half an hour and your still not ready. Get backstage and dressed up." Her long, blonde hair swished with every movement she made.
"Yes, Ma'am, sorry." Jake said, pretending a salute. He hurried through the stage curtains where he bumped into someone on the other side.
"Hey! Watch where you're fucking going!" said Chris Walker. Chris was taller and bigger than Jake, standing at around 6 foot, and his muscles stood out as he was wearing a tight, white vest.
"Sorry ..." started Jake, tensing up.
"Sorry is not enough; I'll make sure you watch where you're going." Chris raised his fist, which was about as lethal as if a shotgun was pointed at him.
"Hey Chris, no, come on, that twerp isn't worth your strength" Amy Derner, Chris' girlfriend, popped up from nowhere like a jack in the box. "You shouldn't pick a fight, Jake." She sneered, with a look of disdain on her face, then grabbed Chris by the shoulders, and steered him away. Jake looked at them for a moment, thinking how close he could of been to being very badly hurt, and then continued on to the dressing room. Just outside the door, Mark Singer greeted Jake. Mark was a recent friend, and at twenty-two, was already married.
"Hey.... What was going on there?" He asked, in a slow voice. Mark was African American, and never heard the end of it from Chris, who liked to pick on anyone who looked different than him.
"Oh, just Chris trying to find an excuse to hit me again." Replied Jake, shrugging as if it was no big deal. Jake tried opening the door but the pure silver door handle, brought by Clarice, wouldn't budge. "Come on!" He said with clenched teeth. He pulled harder but after a good tug, the handle ripped of the door. "Oh, man ..." He gasped, sweating because of the effort. He chucked the handle to the floor, where it stopped just before the door.
"We really need to fix that." Said Mark "That's happened before."
As Jake went to knock on the door for someone to open it, the door swung open quickly, nearly hitting Jake. The door handle skittered down the hallway after just being hit by the door, stopping just before the stage curtain.
"Oh, sorry, Jake." Apologised Fred Point, the young conductor. "We heard the commotion" Indicating a pretty redhead.
"Jeez, you very nearly hurt me" Said Jake
In the crowd. Ian Leardel walked carefully down the stairs of the crowd, he held in his hands a tray of cheap food with a drink of coke, glad that the theatre sold food; otherwise he'd have to wait three hours until he'd be able to eat, and he had a strict resume of eating in a set amount of time. He was thin, eating a meal only two times a day. As he went to sit down on the plush seat someone knocked into him and his drink fell off his tray. He didn't notice as he went to confront whoever hit into him. "Hey! What'd you do that for?!" He started, angrily slightly hoping for a verbal fight, he was always good at that.
A brunette woman turned around, her bright blue eyes burrowing into Ian. "Oh sorry, I didn't see you there.
"Oh ... don't worry about it." Ian replied, now a bit sheepish.
"Sorry again, Should I just buy you another drink?" She asked.
"What?" Now noticing that his drink wasn't on his tray, Ian replied. "No, no it's fine, umm, what was your name?"
"Stacey ... Why do you want to know?" Replied Stacey, curious.
"Just, just wondering." Ian countered, fearing his secret tendencies to be discovered.
The Drink slowly rolled down the stairs, one by one, leaving a slight trail of coke behind it. It got kicked by an audience member and flew through the air, landing at the electrical systems below the main stage.
"Ow, watch where you're putting that thing" complained Jake, as his make-up artist, Alice Chantrey, poked him in the eye with a make-up brush.
"S-s-sorry" Stuttered Alice, It was her first day on the job, and she didn't want to disappoint anyone.
"Ah, don't be too hard on her, she's new" said Fred
"Oh, my mistake ... sorry ... I" Jake said meekly, ashamed. He was cut off by a loud klaxon, signifying the beginning of the show. Mark stood up, brushing off dust from his costume. "Break a leg, Mark." Said Jake, waving at his friend who was just leaving for the stage.
As Mark walked, he stood on the door handle pushing it through the crack in the floor. the handle fell to the floor, landing in the puddle of coke, and slightly touching the equipment. Mark walked onto the stage to a huge cheer, he was a popular actor. He looked to the crowd and saw Stacey Singer, his wife, she gave a thumbs up and in reply he winked then went to start his speech. A spark from the electricals fell onto the door handle, which conducted the electricity through it and onto the coke. Suddenly, fire engulfed Mark as the stage exploded in a ball of shrapnel, wood and burning fabric. The audience starting screaming, as pieces of debris fell onto them. The roof above the theatre cracked, and the crack grew larger as pieces of concrete fell onto audience members, killing them instantly.
"OH MY GOD!!" Screamed Stacey, as she saw her husband disappear in the ball of flame. "MAR ..." She got cut off as a large piece of concrete smashed into her head, crushing it and killing her instantly. The crowd's screams grew slowly quieter as the audience slowly died, one by one.
Amy was on the floor, knocked back by the force of the blast. She opened her eyes, which were covered in blood and saw Chris running towards her through a screen of red. "Amy! Are you all right, what happened!" He demanded as he ran, but tripped on a metal cable, knocking it from its hook. The Cable snapped away from the hook and sliced into Chris. Chris stood there, motionless, as his top half of his body toppled to the floor. "CHRIS!" Amy shouted. But then a weight the cable was holding up crushed her chest, killing her.
Ian shuddered, feeling the warm blood of the women, Stacey on his face. He stood up to join the throng of the crowd trying to get out, but before he could make it too the door, a large piece off the roof fell down, crushing the crowd outside the door. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ..." Ian cursed, then turned to find another route. As he turned his foot slipped on the coke, and he fell towards the stairs, as he tumbled down, his head cracked against the steps, smashing it to a pulp.
"What the hell was that?" Exclaimed Fred.
"It sounded like an explosion" Replied Jake.
"I'll take a look" Fred opened the door and walked out, right into the corridor full of flames. As the flames dissipated, Clarice stumbled into the room, holding a bloody arm. "Shit! Why is this happening?" Questioned Clarice as the door flew into her from another explosion, crushing her against the wall. Alice was on the floor, a shard of wood impaled in her neck, she screamed without a sound for a few seconds, and then went still.
Jake stumbled back toward the doorway and limped through the corridor. He got onto the stage, and saw complete carnage. Everyone was dead everywhere he looked. They were crushed, impaled or just plain mutilated. He saw the charred body of Mark staring at him from the floor. He tripped and fell backwards to the floor. He looked up, and saw a large piece of concrete falling. As it fell, Jake's eyes widened, realizing he was about to die.
Jake snapped open his eyes in a sweat.