The Ventriloquist

== "The Ventriloquist" written by TheDarkCat97 ==
As a child, I was always a big fan of art and literature. I used to love going to see plays, and every chance I got I would take out a book from the library. While my friends were out playing sports, I was inside my house, reading books or looking for a musical to go to. My family would take me to a play at my local theater every once and a while. But one thing that I used to love more than anything else than up-start ventriloquist Charlie Winters. Charlie was from Illinois and made his dummy Steve, who would steal the show. Steve kind of reminded me of Fats from the movie Magic, only he had a red flannel shirt and some black pants, and his hair was black as well.
Charlie was a very quirky man, and he would always put on a puppet show every week. Whenever we saw him on stage, he was dressed in all in black, like David Strassman or Jeff Dunham. Looking back on it, I don’t remember ever seeing him sad; he always wore a big smile. I think this is one of the reasons the audience were so drawn to the young man’s shows. Even my friends, who normally were not interested in plays or reading, would always love to go see it. Unlike other shows put on there, it was free to see. So every day when he's in town, I would get my chores done early, meet up with my friends, and head to the theater to see his shows.
The shows themselves were always very upbeat and fun. I remember how Charlie would always get a new puppet every couple of weeks. This kept the show fresh, and new characters meant new stories. He would always get into ridiculous arguments with his puppets, usually about stupid stuff. I don’t know why, but for some reason, even though I loved his shows, I always felt uneasy watching them. It’s not that it was scary or anything, but I think ventriloquist dummies always freaked me out a bit. Their mouths with the slit sides that only moved up and down, and their eyes that looked like they were watching you always gave me the creeps. Still, this didn't stop me from laughing at the hilarious jokes he would tell.
There was one event in particular that I will always remember. One day in January I remember having my friend Josh over. It was winter break. We used to hang out all the time, and even though I was more of an introverted reader as a child, I still enjoyed his company every once and a while. We were both huge fans of Charlie Winters, and we were planning on going to see it that day. As we talked though, my mother came into the room and abruptly told us that she did not want us going to see Charlie that day. Josh and I were immediately disappointed. When I asked her why, she gave the typical Because I said so that’s why talk to me.
Now, when you are a child, if you are told you cannot do something, you immediately want to do it. Josh and I had this exact same feeling; we wanted to know why we couldn't go. After all, we had always gone to see the show, why would today be different? Our young minds began coming up with crazy ideas. Maybe there was some secret that Charlie would give away about how adults have the power to know everything, and our mom didn't want us to go for that reason. Thinking of these things only made us want to go see the show even more. Unfortunately, under the ever watchful eyes of my mother, we could not make it to the show. We had to miss one of his spectacular performances.
The next year, the same thing happened. My mother did not want me to see the show. Actually, looking back, she didn't want me going anywhere that day. But now things were really starting to get strange. She was never against me seeing the shows, in fact, she was glad that I got out of the house. Figuring I couldn't talk her out of it, I stayed home and continued reading my childhood book Pete the Cat: I Love My White Shoes. As I read my book though, all I could think of was getting to the theater to see what secret was preventing me from seeing the performance. I began to formulate a plan, and by the end of the year, I was ready to make my move.
That night yesterday in 2019, after I was tucked into bed, I slowly crept down the stairs. With the way my house was designed, with the stairway leading to the front door, I was always able to leave my house sneakily. Once I got to the bottom of the stairs though, I stopped dead in my tracks. In the kitchen, my parents were having a conversation about a recent string of missing people. I began to feel anxiety boil up in side of me. Was this for real? At first, this made me reluctant to go outside. But then, my young mind began to come up with its own rational explanation. Obviously my parents were trying to keep me from going to the theater. But I wasn't about to let them trick me, I knew better. I slipped on my shoes and jacket, and slowly opened the door. The cool wind immediately hit my face, and I realized I needed to get out before my parents noticed the draft. I stepped outside and headed out into the night.
Normally I would always walk to see the show during the day, as it was a small town and the theater wasn't very far away. I could walk to the theater with my eyes closed I had been so many times. Thankfully, it seemed like that skill would come in handy, as it was extremely dark and there was a snowstorm that night. Thankfully, I was prepared, wearing my pajamas and winter coat. I also kept a flashlight with me, which didn't help much, but it was something to give me some bearing of where I was going.
It didn't take me long to get to the theater. After about fifteen minutes of walking I reached the small building. Thankfully, it wasn't locked, though at that time I don’t think we ever worried about burglars. It was a small town, and we never had any issues with break-ins. I opened up the large wooden doors and stepped inside. I heard a deafening thud behind me as the doors slammed shut. I was now in the lobby of the theater. I looked around until I found a sign on a door that said “Theater One”. I opened the door and went inside. I looked into the theater, and began to make my way to the stage. The floorboards creaked and groaned as I stepped, and the wind outside buffeted against the walls of the old place. As I looked upon the dimly lit stage, I felt very paranoid. I had never been out this late alone without my parents, and I was pretty nervous. I ignored this feeling and moved on; I needed to know what secrets were hidden from me.
I began to make my way up an aisle of seats. I slowly walked closer and closer to the stage. Every once and a while, I would turn around out of paranoia to make sure no one was there. I quickened my pace to the stage, but it seemed like an eternity to get to it. It was almost pitch black, save for a few stage lights that gave the area a slight amount of ambient light. I looked up around a bit. My mind was racing now. I had an urge to run, but now it was too late to turn back. I was alone in a dark theater, and the silence only made the area seem creepier.
Finally, I reached the stage. Right as I did however, I heard the all too familiar thud of the theater doors open. I froze dead in my tracks, and soon began to panic. I needed to get onto the stage to hide; I was in the open here.
I looked around, and noticed that there were no stairs leading onto the stage from where I was. I desperately looked around for a way onto the stage, and soon I found a door that lead backstage. After a few seconds, I found a door that looked like it would lead me to the backstage area. Meanwhile, I heard very loud footsteps coming from the lobby of the theater.
In a desperate attempt to hide, I ran up to the door that led backstage. I turned the doorknob, but to my dismay it was locked. I looked around for another way backstage, but it seemed like the only other way to get onstage was to climb up. I ran up to the stage, and quickly tried to hoist myself up; however, the height of it caused me to fall once I tried to lift my leg onto it. I landed with a loud bang. Then, the footsteps in the lobby stopped. Whoever was here had heard me. I sat silently where I had landed. The only noise I could hear was the soft buffeting of the wind against the theater.
Then the footsteps continued, and this time they were headed in my direction. I heard them getting closer to the door that lead to theater one, but I couldn't move. I was so shocked and terrified, I needed to get out of there, but my own body could not bring itself to move. Right as the footsteps reached the door though, I came to my senses. I quickly stood up and made a run for the stage. The doors to the theater were beginning to open now, but because of how heavy they were, it gave me some time to escape. I jumped at the stage and hoisted my whole body up, and quickly ran into the darkness that waited behind the curtains. Right as I got inside and was safe, the man had entered the theater.
I stayed silent, I needed to get out of here, but I wasn't about to leave without some kind of clue as to why my parents were not letting me see the shows. I turned on my flashlight. I cursed myself when I did though, because as soon I did, it made a click, which I was sure whoever was in the theater would be able to hear.
And I was right. Shortly after I had turned on my flashlight, I heard the familiar voice of Charlie call out.
“Hello?”
I froze. This time it wasn't a question. It was a greeting, and it was much, much darker than the one before. He knew I was in that theater now; there was no doubt about it. This time, it was much closer. He must have been halfway through the theater. I quickly shut the door behind me and locked it. I then examined the room I was in.
Of all the rooms I could have chosen, I had chosen the puppet room. I looked around at the many lifeless faces staring at me. Each one of the dummies sitting in plastic little chairs that looked as if, they were stolen from an elementary school. These wooden corpses sat motionless, their glass, empty eyes stared at me. Each one had a large grin, as if they were laughing at my situation. From afar, these puppets didn't bother me. But in a room lit only by an old flashlight, right next to them, they suddenly became far more menacing. I silently made my way to the back of the room, down the long corridor of dummies. I never realized how many dummies Charlie had, and I wondered where he even got them from. My thoughts were abruptly ended as I once again heard a voice call out.
“Hello…”
He was at the door of the puppet room. My heart raced faster as I desperately looked for a place to hide. He slowly began to open the door, and I jumped into the back of the room, where I was hidden by a large group of dummies sitting in chairs. Just as I did, he entered the room. His face seemed off for some reason. Granted, he was smiling, but he it wasn't a cheerful smile. No, something in his face gave me the premonition that he wanted to kill me. It was as if his smile said that he wanted to see what my guts looked like splattered on the floor.
I jumped back farther into the mass of dummies I was hiding in. I watched as the usually cheerful Charlie began to become more and more sinister, as he began to do something I could quite comprehend. He turned on the light in the room, and started talking to the dummies. Each and every one of them. He made his way towards the back room, stopping only to talk to one of the puppets.
“Hello Konnor, do you know where the little boy is?”
I half expected a reply from the puppet, but rationally it didn't respond. There was something else off about what he was doing, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. He was halfway through the room, again continuously talking with each puppet individually, each time though the question was the same.
“Hello Daniel, do you know where the little boy is?” “Hello Greg, do you know where the little boy is?”
He must have been taunting me, I know he was. He knew where I was, he just wanted inflict terror into me before he, did whatever he was going to do to me. He kept getting closer to me; still asking the question that began to seem more and more horrific has he slowly progressed towards me.
“Hello John, do you know where the little boy is?”
Then I realized what was so off about what he was saying. He wasn't calling the dolls by their real names. The one he called Konnor was always Bennie. The one he called Daniel was Morty. Were the names he was calling them now some kind of strange human names he gave to them? It just didn't add up.
Then he came to his sidekick, Steve, placed his hand inside the back of the little wooden doll, and asked the same question.
"Hello Steve, do you know where the little boy is?"
“Sure Charles, he's right over there, and he can't wait to see you!”
He turned to me, as if the puppet was a kid tattling on me to his father! I don't know if the man was fucking with me or what, but I swear to Christ what happened next made me scared shitless. All the dolls in the room turned to face me, by themselves, even the ones I'm behind all lowered their plastic eyes to look into mine! I was breathing in and out, hard, I couldn't catch my breath I was so frightened. I can even hear the faint whispers of random people whispering in what sounded like misery: "Help us..." "We can't move..." "Why are you here..." "Get out or you'll become a puppet, just like us..."
I can hear the pain in their voice, but I was focused on Charlie. "Charlie Winters..." I got up and said, "Why... why are you doing this...?"
"Why?" He said, playing off a cartoony curious look while looking eye-to-eye with his dummy. Then he and his dummy looked back at me, "Well, it's kind of a long story... You see: Back then, us ventriloquists were called 'engastrimyths'. Basically, people believed engastrimyths had demons in their stomachs who belched words from their host’s mouths. Engastrimyths plied their trade for entertainment. Heh, what could be more thrilling than demonic tummy talk? And as divination. That's where the art’s roots lie in necromancy—the ancient art of allowing a dead person’s spirit to enter the necromancer and speak to the living. Not bad, eh?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Could this be true? What Charles meant was indeed serious but, never did I thought this could happen to somebody. I wanted to know more, what happened to all those people. "What happened to all those people, why did they disappear?"
"I'm glad you asked! I guaranteed that my dolls are the most realistic of all – no doubt using the severed body parts I collected from all my victims. And placed their souls inside my masterpieces. And when the timing was right, I go all over the world, performing in front of millions of my adoring fans. But in reality, I was just entertaining my prey, looking for the right one to be my new puppet. Can't have a good show without a volunteer from the audience, right?"
I felt my stomach drop. I couldn't believe this monster was the man I idolized! I wanted him to know that he was absolutely sick, and I hope he'll burn in Hell. But that would jeopardize my will to survive. I wanted to ask one more question, one that I wanted to forget for years to come... Is he going to kill me, make me into a wooden doll, all because I figured out his plan. But Steve knew what I was going to ask before I even said anything. "Of course he will, can't have a blabber-mouth spoilin' the fun!"
I didn't want to hear that, but he did have a point. I know this is gonna sound stupid now, but since I was a kid, I started talking to the puppet.
"Bu-But he can't! This is impossible, none of this is. The dolls aren't alive, and neither are you! Y-Your just a doll! An inanimate object!"
"Oh really?" He said sinisterly, yet he had that same cartoony voice.
"Yes, really!" I said, confirming my facts to the puppet.
"If so, can a doll do this?"
He told Charlie to put him down. And he did, like putting down a child. Then...holy fucking shit...It was standing on it's own, and began to dance! I became frantic at the site of this, it was like anything I could ever imagine!
"You see," said Charlie, "Steve, here, is nothing like the ghosts in the other dolls! He's, in fact, a demon I summoned. His performances was a 'Hell' of a show I always say." He gave me an evil glare, "Now, time to shine, my boy."
I bolted out the door of the puppet room and ran to the door of the theater. I ran through the darkness and the blinding snow storm, and snuck back into my house. My parents were asleep and, thankfully had not noticed I had left. I went into my room, and got into bed. I didn't sleep at all that night.
After that night, I never went back to see Charlie's shows. I remember at this time, my parents had told me that they didn't want me going out because of a string of kidnappings in the area. I was a little unnerved by this, but I didn't care. I never wanted to see Charlie Winters again. My life went on as normal.
One day however, my parents sat me down at the kitchen table for a very serious talk. Figuring they were ready to give me education on sex, which I already knew far too much about from my friends, I was prepared for an awkward conversation. Instead, they looked at me with very sad looks in their eyes and gave me terrible news.
“Your friend Josh went missing the other night. Everyone in the town has been trying their best to find him but… but by now we are sure he is just another victim of the kidnappings.”
I took a moment to let this all sink in, and then began to bawl my eyes out. My parents both hugged me, which didn’t really help. At this point, mixed with all the things that happened to me recently, my life was getting really strange. After this event, I only remember some minor details. I remember how more and more children in the town, including some of my friends went missing. I remember how police had arrested Charlie Winters as a suspect to the kidnappings. I remember them dragging out several dummies from the theater.
I remember how one of them looked a lot like Josh. That's what got me in the gut. But I remembering asking myself... "Where's Steve?" That part scared me the most. Steve was never seen in the theater, and I bet he's out there somewhere, plotting revenge against me for taking away his master.
On the day of my seventeenth birthday, I was opening my gifts, and one last gift made me open my eyes... Inside a cardboard box...Was a sinister looking Steve, glaring right at me.
Category:Puppet
Category:Demon/Devil
Category:Ghosts