A/N: I hope Chapter one wasn't too boring. I just had to inform you of everything.
Disclaimer: Yeah, I own ASoUE and all the characters. And mutant tree frogs will rule the earth and Ciara is a boy and the sky is a shade of bright purple and politicians are honest.
Day One
Part One
"Wish me luck!" Violet said to me. I smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. We were both standing outside the door to the men's dressing room inside the Regal Washington Theatre.
Violet was clutching her sea blue common-place notebook (given to her by me when she got her press pass) tightly in her hands as if at any moment it might sprout wings and fly away. She had positioned a sea blue pen (given to her by Duncan when they got their press passes) right behind her ear. She took one hand off her commonplace book and reached out to knock. "Let's hope there's a story behind this door," she said as she tapped her fist up against the wood.
"Come in!" said a barely audible voice. Violet pushed open the door.
"Go get 'em Violet!" I said, smiling. Violet smiled back
"I'll meet you in the when the interview is over, Isadora" she said. I nodded. She turned to the door again. "Wish me luck!" she said as she disappeared behind it. 'I think I'll go check out the snacks' I thought, and began to walk in the direction of the lobby.
But something made me stop dead in my tracks. I heard a scream. An ugly, ear piercing scream that sent a horrible tingling sensation up and down my spine. It screamed again. Then an awful realization struck me.
"Oh my god! That's Violet!" I yelled, then sped back over to the men's dressing room door, twisting and turning the handle.
It was locked. The screams continued, but then began to fade.
"HELP! Isadora! Izzy! Let of me you ga...!" Violet screamed as her voice faded. I stepped back from the door, and positioned myself into backstance.
"KIA! (pronounced E-I like the letters)!" I yelled as I planted a kick right on the center of the door. I fell to the ground. 'And I thought taking a one week Shotokan class with Duncan and Quigley wouldn't have paid off'' I thought. Well, there was no time to lose! I had to find Violet! I began searching to room, but before I could do much, the phone rang. I ran, stumbling a bit over everything junking up the floor, and picked up the phone.
"Hello?" I asked frantically. "Hello?"
"Listen you, if they tear down the theater, the girl goes with it," a horrible sounding voice answered. It was too ghastly to be human.
"What? Who is this?" I demanded. No answer. "Hello? HELLO!" I slammed the phone back into the receiver, and stumbled back over to the south side of the room, the one I had previously been searching. The moment I got there the phone rang again. I darted back over to the phone.
"Hello?" asked a voice.
"Listen you," I snarled. "Whatever you're doing, you've got the
wrong girl. She's a reporter, and I'm a detective, and we don't scare easy." I had lied. Not about being a detective (I had been doing some detective work hadn't I?) but about not scaring easy. I was terrified, and I'd take a lucky guess that Violet was petrified as well at the moment.
"Um...I beg your pardon? This is James Connor, the caretaker. I was calling for Kent James. Who's this? And what's all the fuss about?" the James asked, confused. I instantly blushed a deep red (but he couldn't see). This was definitely a different person.
"My name is Isadora. My friend, Violet, was just kidnapped. I was out in the hall when I heard her scream. I don't know where they could have taken her!" I told him. He seemed to not believe me.
"What makes you think she was kidnapped?" James asked.
"I received a threatening phone call from the kidnapper. He said if they tear down the theater Violet goes down with it!" I said, getting more and more worried by the second. Violet was getting farther and farther away by the second. When James spoke again I was shook from my current thoughts.
"They must've taken her through the secret passage. Holy smokes! And you're on an inside line! The kidnapper must've called from inside the building. I'll make sure all the exits are locked up tight. You search the room for the secret passage, and I'll some find you" he said, then he hung up. I put down the phone then I heard the door open.
"Hey you!" I whipped around. "No groupies in the dressing rooms. But since you're such a rascally fan, how about an autograph from yours truly, Kent James," Kent said.
"I'm not here for an autograph," I said coldly. "My friend has been kidnapped!"
"Kidnapped? Maybe you had had better tell me what is going on."
"I don't have time to explain!" I yelled. "The kidnapper may still be in the building! I need to search this room. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," he said. "What can I do to help?"
"The caretaker was looking for you," I responded. "Maybe you should go help him."
"Roger," he said, and just like that he was out the door. I continued to search the room. First I went and checked the wardrobe. I really couldn't find anything in particular that could be put to good use. I only found a baton, which I decided to stick in my pocket. Then I decided to search the walls. I put my ear against the wall and, knocking every so often, walked along it. I went without any findings until-OW! I removed my now bruised head from the wall and looked at what I had run into. A portrait. A portrait of a laughing guy. An opened portrait of a laughing guy. Hidden behind the picture, was a lever that I pulled. I heard a squeeeeeak! Behind me and saw in the wall a newly opened door. How convenient! I rushed to the other side of the room and leaped through the door.
It led to a long, narrow, dirty, grimy, passageway. The walls had mold growing all over it and the few mold-free spots were littered with graffiti. I wrapped my arms around me and shivered. I would hate being dragged through here. I averted my gaze to the damp floor so I wouldn't have to sicken myself looking at the moldy walls. I continued to stare at the sodden dirty floor until-OW! I looked up and rubbed my already bruised head. I had bumped into another door. I took hold of the rusty handle and pulled. It swung open.
I stepped inside, and seemed to be in a wardrobe. There were shirts and dresses hanging from the ceiling anyway. I pushed open the door of the wardrobe and stepped into the room.
"I may have to cut this short Hal, a girl just climbed out of my wardrobe," said a voice behind me. I turned around to see a woman sitting with crossed legs in a chair, her cell phone glued to her ear. "Can't you see I'm on the phone here?" she asked.
"But this is an emergency!" I yelled. "I'm looking for a fourteen-year-old girl with black hair last seen tied up in a ribbon and-" the woman cut me off.
"Look sweetheart: I have a premiere tonight and no stylist for my star, so don't tell me about problems," she said rolling her eyes.
"But this is an emergency!" I screamed.
"I said, scram!" she said, and then stuck her phone back on her ear. 'No use talking to her anymore' I thought, and headed for the door, which led to a long hallway. Fortunately, this hallway was mold free and had a very nicely red carpeted floor. At the end of this hallway there was no wardrobe, only a very intricately carved stone archway. A curtain hung from the top.
"OW!" I yelped. Something had fallen on my doubly bruised head. I looked at the ground. A shiny sliver quarter lay there. 'Pennies from heaven' I thought, picked it up, stuck it in my pocket, and walked into the lobby.
"No teenyboppers 'till showtime. House rules," A voice from behind me said. I turned to face it.
"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.
"Aren't you here to worship at the screen of Kent James?" he asked.
"I'm here to see the premiere, that doesn't make me a worshiper," I responded. "Who are you? Kent's surly understudy?"
"Actually, I'm Brady Flacon. Dedicated leader of S.T.E.P.O.F.F. Who are you? And what's with the doom and gloom?" he asked.
"I'm Isadora Quagmire. I think I need to call the police," I responded.
"Why?" he asked. "A little taste of your tax dollars going bad?"
"Well you're a breath of optimism," I said, rolling my eyes. "My friend was kidnapped."
"I'll try to stay out of your way then," Brady said. "There's an outside line in the phone booth."
"Thanks," I said. "A lot." Then I headed for the ticket booth. I discovered the phone sitting in a corner. Hurriedly, I picked it up and dialed 911. "Come on, come on..." I muttered to myself.
"St. Louis police department," the voice on the other line said.
"I'm calling to report a kidnapping," I stated firmly.
"Is the kidnapping in progress?"
"No..." I responded, losing my confidence.
"Hold on Miss, I'll transfer you to missing persons unit."
"Hello?" I asked. I was answered. "The Regal Washington...No, but I heard it...she was interviewing Kent James for our school newspaper...no... I have to wait twenty-four hours until you'll investigate! Sir, I don't think we can take that chance...okay...I'll call you when I have evidence...bye." I hung up. They wouldn't investigate until tomorrow if I didn't show them evidence she was kidnapped. I got up from my chair and ran from the ticket booth. If I had to find Violet myself, I was going to find Violet myself. I had to find her before the building was demolished, and that meant I had to start right at that moment.
If you want to know what Violet said about the kidnapper ("Let go of me you ga..."), I'm sorry. Maybe I will instruct someone to send an anonymous review with her exact quote. You could look for that. To bubblesrule 1, I know you liked this Nancy Drew game the best. Should I kill Isadora? (You know, the electric gate/the falling lamp) Nah, that's evil. The Yak Be Nimble stole the magic carrot! MWAHAHAHAHAHA! (You are probably the only one who knows what I'm talking about.)
-Everything we say
We interpret the wrong way-
