The Salem Horror

He lay silently against the pews of the church, his mind and his will broken. His shattered body was slowly becoming nothing more than an empty shell, as his soul slowly faded and his sanity fell apart.

He stared at nothing, he was nothing, this he knew for a fact.

For he had stared into the abyss, the void beyond his world and saw that he was nothing. But still he and his allies had foolishly tried to fight against it, against the inevitable and the impossible, and failed miserably.

And now he was here, broken and trapped in this desolate town of Salem, wishing for a death that would never come.

How long had it been since he had lost that battle? He did not know and he did not care, what use was there for keeping time when you stayed in the same place forever? Why care if you and everything around you would fade into dust with time?

Oh how he wished for that, but he had nothing now.

He was nothing, he was a nobody but a-

"Oh Mr Ringmaster! There you are!"

The air stilled, a hissing chorus of whispers accompanied by a gnawing cold crept across the room and settled over his skin, but he merely blinked, plastered a smile on his face and turned his head at the Gate and her puppet.

He did not say a word, what was there to say? She did not need an answer, all he had to do was to listen, wait and follow.

The Gate smiled, teeth all sharp and pointy, the tassels of her garments swayed gently in the non existent wind as she stood unnaturally still in the open doorway of the church. The light behind her cast a looming shadow that ate away at everything it touched and spoke of the truths they contained.

He ignored it all with practiced ease and shambled forward, forcing himself forwards to reach the Gate and her puppet and to ruffle their hair with one slow, smooth movement.

The Gate's face flickered with myriad of emotions, too fast for him to identify, before settling into a smile much wider and sharper then the last. While her puppet merely blinked and ducked her head so that his hand would encompass more of it, making a contented humming sound that sounded a bit out of place for a girl of her frame.

The Gate let this carry on for a moment, basking in sensations she was feeling, before she pulled away and started walking down the path.

He followed her, with the puppet close behind, her cold hands now clasped in his as they silently watched the Gate go towards their destination.

And as they approached it, The Gallows Hill, where the dead swayed and where sin was purged he saw them. As broken and as lifeless as he was, they stood silently on the raised platform where the dead stood on before they hanged, waiting for the Gate to come.

And as she arrived, their eyes drifted and focused on the Gate as she approached a lone chair in the front of the platform and sat down, the puppet slowly removed her hands from his as she moved to stand beside the Gate and he followed suit by going up to the platform and smiling at the Gate.

And, at this unspoken signal, a play began once more.

Words and sounds filled the platform as they all willed their body to move with the actions of the play.

And move they did, with the story spilling out as a tableau that shifted and changed with every spoken word and sound, with the Gate and her puppet watching every single moment with a smile on their face.

Before they knew it, their play had already ended, the last word punctuated with a ringing silence.

The Gate stood and left without a word, her puppet followed behind her, leaving them to stare out silently before they moved go back to their prior places and await the next day.

And so, another day closes on the town of Salem.

The End