A lanky, haggard man waltzed down a drab and winding corridor carrying a suitcase swinging in his hand with every step he took. Upon approaching a red door with a ruffled, silver star plastered in the center, the man uttered a deep sigh.
"Home Sweet Home."
The door creaked open, revealing the old theater's dressing room that was still in the same state of disrepair as it had been the last time the man had the displeasure of working at the theater. The moldy, worn wallpaper, accompanied by the usual aroma of mothballs and aged leather brought back a surge of memories. The man stared into the broken and dirty mirror, his dark blue eyes peering back at him.
"God… look at yourself, Jimmy," he groaned. Even after preparing for the day, the purple circles that enveloped his eyes still shined and the discernable crow's feet were more abundant than ever. Perhaps it was the stress of performing again, especially with him, that sent Jimmy into a spiral of tension which did nothing to help his already aging face.
"Hey, chucklehead, you gonna let me outta here or am I gonna be starin' into the darkness of this smelly old case the rest of the night?!"
Jimmy took a gulp of saliva and carefully dropped his case to let out the screaming demon. The case, covered in worn stickers that symbolized every walk that the two of them took together, was almost as beaten up as the insidious wooden fiend that lay inside. From everywhere to a horror theme park to a wizard's fantastical stage to a camp in the middle of the woods - the two had been everywhere together. Performing show after show, causing smile upon smile. It was a dream… at least, that's what Jimmy tried to convince himself. Unfortunately, it was nothing but nightmares.
As he unlocked the case, Jimmy was overwhelmed with a desire to leave and never look back; to leave the case locked and start his life anew. But as much as he wanted to, Jimmy was forever bound to the wooden menace that ruined his life and owns his life. Even if he could leave, what if someone else were to find it and unleash the same curse that befell him? He couldn't let that happen. Not again.
"What is taking you so long, Jimmy?! Did you go braindead while opening the lock or somethin'? Speed it up, will ya!"
Jimmy whimpered. He bit his bottom lip, which quivered anxiously. He unlocked the briefcase and before he was able to open it himself, the little demon forced the lid open, smacking Jimmy directly in the nose. He gasped in pain, blood trickled hastily from the man's nostrils.
The wooden creature's limbs made a crackling noise as he stretched them outward. He rolled his head around and cracked his slender neck, uttering a sigh of relief. The wooden menace was nothing more than a ventriloquist's dummy on the outside, but within the confines of that vessel hid something much more sinister. The dummy's head turned to look at Jimmy, whose nose continued to bleed through his hands.
"Yikes, Jimmy. I said you were goin' braindead, but I didn't think it was actually true. Clean yourself up, slave. We've gotta show to do."
The dummy's mouth clicked with every word he spoke. Jimmy, sweating from the stress and nose bloodied, quickly scrambled to find a piece of cloth to clean himself.
"Just use your bowtie. It's already red anyway! HA!"
Jimmy's eyebrows furrowed, but he begrudgingly ripped the tie from his neck and wiped himself off. The dummy comments got stale the first elven-thousand times he used them. The clashing reds on the silky tie made Jimmy wince. Nothing was worse than seeing his own blood. Why would he listen to him… again?
"I guess I can go without a tie," Jimmy muttered under his breath. There was more that Jimmy wished he could say, but he knew the dummy would hear him. He took a seat on the musty red couch that took up a third of the dressing room/
"So, what jokes do you think I should bring back tonight? I really liked the one where I compare the little bug-eyed brats in the audience to a fish market – HA!" The dummy hopped onto the dusty vanity and stared at himself in the mirror. He pseudo-combed his wooden red hair with his stubby hands then eloquently tugged on the ends of his bowtie, making sure he looked nice for the big show.
"What do you think, Jimmy?"
"I-I think we shouldn't perform," Jimmy stammered. He did not mean to say that out loud.
"What?"
"I just think that this is a waste of time, is all. We-we could be doing so many other things an —"
"Since when have I cared what you think, Jimmy?" The dummy leapt from the vanity and approached the frightened Jimmy.
"You cared what jokes I thought we should bring back," Jimmy sheepishly chuckled.
"Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy," the dummy began as he jumped atop the sticker-littered suitcase, slamming it shut. He leaned in closer to Jimmy's clammy face. "This is our comeback. Our ticket back to fame. Come on! A year of twiddling our thumbs and doing nothing, not making a single cent, and you think we SHOULDN'T perform?"
"W-well, I-"
"Jimmy, it doesn't matter if YOU don't want to perform, I'm the one that pulls all the strings, remember? You don't even HAVE to throw your voice, in fact, you couldn't even if you tried!"
The wooden monster's fierce eyes pierced into Jimmy's light blue ponds. His small hands snatched the ventriloquist's dress shirt, pulling him in closer.
"Face it. I could just get any old moron like you to perform with me and the results would be the same. Do you want to live on the streets like the dirty hobo you are, or do you want to shine in the spotlight again with your old pal, Slappy?"
The dummy's grasp on Jimmy's shirt tightened, much like Jimmy's stomach. He's right, he's right, he's right… the ventriloquist's mind could not stop racing and his heart pounded as if someone were beating it like a punching bag. He peered into Slappy's emerald eyes and took a shaky breath.
"It's not like you even have a choice, slave," Slappy's painted smile widened as he snickered. Jimmy closed his eyes and whimpered softly. I have no choice, I have no choice, I have no choice….
KNOCK KNOCK
Slappy fell quiet. He relinquished his grasp on Jimmy's shirt.
"Mr. O'James? You're on in 10," chimed the voice of a woman on the opposite end of the door. Neither Slappy nor Jimmy answered. The both of them stared at one another for a brief moment in silence. Slappy's painted and carved facial features contorted into a smug and victorious expression that shook Jimmy to his core.
"I-uh," Jimmy faltered. He removed himself from the couch. "Th-thank you!"
He squinted at Slappy, whose chuckles echoed quietly throughout the room. He shut his eyes and wished it were just a nightmare. He always did. But it never is a nightmare. Jimmy took a deep breath and clenched his fists. He walked towards his bloodied tie. He cringed once and put it back on.
"Don't forget your jacket, dummy," sneered Slappy. Jimmy huffed and grabbed his jacket inside the suitcase and tidied himself up.
He stared into the mirror and took a deep breath. You can do this, Jimmy. He reached for the gel on the vanity and slicked his hair back.
"Forgetting something?" The dummy croaked from behind. Jimmy rolled his eyes and curled his hair to match Slappy. "Let's go, Jimmy. We don't want to keep the kids waiting, hm?"
Jimmy slid his hand into the dummy's back and seized his controls. The ventriloquist got his fingers situated on the usual switches, even though despite having the control, he was not in control. Jimmy opened the dressing room door and walked down the winding corridor. The lights would flicker and the hall smelled of rot. Jimmy breathed through his mouth up the stairs and onto the stage.
Jimmy took his seat and positioned the dummy on this lap. He took long, deep breathes as he stared into the dark red curtains in front of him.
"Relax, Jimmy," Slappy whispered. "Or they'll think you're stiff!"
A drumroll played on the loudspeaker and lights flooded through the curtains. Jimmy's face began to drench with sweat.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, BOYS AND GIRLS! PLEASE PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR JIMMY O' JAMES AND HIS LITTLE BUDDY, SLAPPY!"
Jimmy's heart dropped as the announcer's voice boomed throughout the theater. He took a deep breath as the curtains slowly dragged open. Hundreds of eyes illuminating at once. The light blinded him for a brief moment.
Breathe, Jimmy.
Breathe.