DOORS HAD BEEN LEFT UNLOCKED that led into the performance hall. It was quiet. That unsettled Santiago. In the early hours of the morning staff would be bustling about to prepare the theater for the catalog of shows set to perform.

At the very least noise from rehearsals and sound checks would be audible. Their footsteps were the only thing that echoed in the empty space.

“Definitely has a taste for the dramatic.” Etienne’s brow furrowed, “Needed a stage and everything.”

That was not the reason.

Santiago knew this place.

Some of his earliest memories were here. This was one of the only places his mother had ever held a job. She had been friends with the owner, an elderly woman. He never knew her name, he always called her Grandma though they had no relation.

She let them stay here when they had no place else to go. One of the dressing rooms served as their makeshift apartment.

In exchange Lupe would keep the place tidy and make sure everything was accounted for.

Grandma would always have a seat reserved for herself if she ever decided to attend a show. She would tell Santiago to save it for her.

He would spend hours in the balcony seat hanging over the rail to watch an endless stream of performances from choirs, dancers, and actors.

When the old woman eventually passed, they lost the only place that had ever felt like home.

“How many people know about this place?” Etienne said.

That was the thing. No one except him or his mother would have known. Maybe there were friends of hers who had been aware he was too young to remember all those details. It sent a chill through him to think that one of their family's long time companions would participate in this sick game.

The lights flickered from an old chandelier and created eerie silhouettes, distorting the familiar surroundings. Every creak of the floorboards beneath their feet seemed to have his breath caught in his throat. Every noise amplified in the eerie silence.

“This place is creepy as all hell.” Etienne muttered.

As if in response what little light there was cut out abruptly plunging them into darkness.

“It’s fine. Etienne,” Santiago fumbled for his phone to cast enough light for them to see each other. “I know the way.”

The air crackled echoing off the empty hallways. Flickering light outlined an approaching silhouette. Etienne was likely the first person Santiago met with a shorter temper than his own. Without hesitation the boy barreled forward into the dark towards the shadowy figure.

Something caught hold of the boy dragging him into the shadows. Santiago waved his phone about looking for any sign of him. He tried to call out and nothing came out.

Or rather he could not hear it. He could feel the vibration in his larynx as he shouted yet there was nothing. No creak, crackle, or clatter. Not even the ringing that filled his ears to fill an empty silence. His phone flickered like a dying candle until he was plunged into the silent dark.

Santiago’s attempts to feel around him blindly failed as he began to lose sensation in his limbs. All his senses cut off he felt as only his consciousness floated in absolute darkness.

A brilliant light flashed burning his retinas everywhere around him. Straining against the numbness he could see his own body now. Consciously focusing he puppeteered his own limbs to move pushing through the blanket of light.

As he pushed through he fell to his knees clutching his head as the flood of input overloaded his senses. Even the sound of his knees colliding with the wood paneled resounded in his skull like a thundercrack.

A boot caught him in the ribs sending him rolling across the floor.

Santiago squinted as the world around him had somehow flipped into grayscale. There were two figures, one who loomed over etienne with crackling palms sending jolts that rocked through the boy sending him into fits of convulsions. The other was readying to strike Santiago once more.

He caught the leg, Santiago saw the whites of the man's eyes grow in shock before he yanked him to the floor. It did not take much two hits and the witch was out cold.

Pain shot through every neverending with his bones vibrating under his skin. Santiago blinked and his cheek was pressed against the cool floor panels limbs trembled uncontrollably as he willed them to move. He could see the approach of the other witch coming for Santiago with lightning in his hands.

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He clenched his eyes shut tightly ready for the next wave of pain.

A massive snap of wood resounded as the heavy sofa collided with the witch.

Etienne’s hand fell back to the floor, the boy drenched in sweat panted where he laid on the ground.

“Thanks.” Santiago groaned.

“We ain’t out of the woods yet.” Etienne breathed, shifting slowly to one side.

Ambling down the halls the residual sting remained spiking with any sudden moves. Santiago led the way through the darkened theater.

Through the doors that brought the stage into view the singular ghost light at the center cast an ominous glow across the theater. The tiered row of plush, velvety red seats surrounded the stage in a perfect formation. Each one bore the mark of countless performances, the upholstery worn from the weight of spectators past.

The focal point of the hall commanded attention with its grandeur and craftsmanship. Imposing presence with its size and height loomed over the arena. Intricate molds, delicate carvings, and elegant arches stretched along the walls in the timeless elegance of the old woman who used to hold it so dear.

A spotlight flicked on aimed up towards the balcony seat where a bound and gagged Sylvia sat slumped.

“Sylvie!” Etienne boomed.

Santiago motioned to a side door, “Take that exit, there’s a stairwell down the hall it’ll take you up there.

Etienne nodded and darted down the row.

The singular applause from the stage pulled his attention. Wes stood there with a grin before he threw his arms out wide. “Do you like the choice of venue? It’s not really my style, but the customer is always right.”

“Wes,” Santiago scowled. “What is this?”

“First off, my name’s not Wes but that is neither here nor there.” He shrugged, “I am a performer of sorts. For the right price I put on a show, and I always deliver. I’m the guy you call when you don’t simply want someone dead. You want them broken.”

He snapped his fingers and the theater lit up to show the captive audience.

Lola. Jesus. Marisol. Skylar. Khalil. Mia.

Even Guadalupe was slumped over in one of the front row seats.

Khalil was missing his signature oversized hoodie and headset. Skylar had lost a shoe amidst the scuffle it seemed.

Marisol only clad in a satin teddy looked as though she had been snatched from under the safety of her covers at home. Jesus was still in his work uniform, the cooking apron still tied around his neck.

Lola had given the man trouble that much was evident. The girl was bloodied and bruised. One of her eyes swelled shut and dried blood congealed on her chin from where her lip was busted. Unlike the rest her hands and feet were both tightly bound where she slumped heavily in the seat.

“It wasn’t easy, luring the old bat out of that house with little Sylvia so I could snatch and grab. Admittedly the hardest part.” He shook his head, he pointed at the blonde woman up front, “I owe you one. She’s the cherry on top. Never would have found her if it hadn’t been for your little road trip. Led me straight to her.”

Santiago hands trembled his fists tight at his side. “I’m here. You got what you wanted. Let them go.”

“No, not yet.” Wes reached behind him pulling a knife, the blade twisted into a fine point. He tilted it face down running a finger along the hilt up to the round crystal at the base. “These are not easy to come by my friend. When I kill you, this is going to hold your power and I get my payout.”

Wes held up a hand, “Santiago, it’s nothing personal. Purely business. Hope you can understand.”

A loud crack could be heard, Santiago spun around as a figure flew off the balcony landing in a heap on the seats below. Etienne appeared on the balcony a little worse for wear than when he left.

“Oh he’s strong.” Wes nodded appreciatively and he called up to the boy. “How many did you get?”

“I got all four of ‘em you prick.” Etienne quickly untied Sylvia, lifting her into his arms. He looked down shocked at the others in the seats. “Merde!”

“Get her out.” Santiago called without looking back, “I got things here.”

“I’ll be back.” Etienne said and vanished with the girl.

Santiago walked down to the stage.

Wes waited patiently as the boy made it up to his level.

“You’re the one who killed Louis.” Santiago said.

He smiled, “Guilty.”

You can’t let him take it.

The rasping last plea of a dying man.

“Get away from him!” Skylar shouted, having finally roused to see the scene playing out on the stage in front of them. Struggling against her restraints she tried to pull the bindings loose.

“How do I know that once you get what you want, you’ll let them go?” Said Santiago.

“Simple, they didn’t pay me enough to bother with them. They’re here to keep you in line. After you’re gone, they have no value to me.” Said Wes simply.

“You can not trust him, he’s a murderer!” Skylar screamed, thrashing against her restraints and the theater's chairs began to tremble and creak.

Wes closed the distance pressing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Look, I like you. So, despite what they asked for, I’ll make this quick.”

Santiago looked to Skylar whose calls were drowned out by the pounding in his ears. All his loved ones were trapped in this place, their only crime having been being in proximity to him.

If not now then when?

How many of them would die before one of these psychopaths finally got what they wanted?

What choice did he really have?

He couldn’t risk their safety.

If he was the only one who had to suffer then it would be worth the price.

Santiago closed his eyes to wait for the end.