There was something fishy going on in the theatre - something more than the assignations between the stage manager and one of the understudies, the suspiciously inflated prop budgets. The actors had been acting strange, even for actors - or, rather, they hadn't been behaving like actors. Donna had become accustomed to their peculiar habits during rehearsals, the little superstitions each actor had, their individual quirks. A fortnight after the show opened, those had vanished entirely, one by one, and nobody else had paid it any mind.
Donna knew the theatre was supposedly haunted (it was in an informational pamphlet she'd read one afternoon when she'd been really bored), but one ghost couldn't possess an entire cast, assuming that there even was such a thing. Any sane person would have written the entire thing off and asked the temp agency for a different assignment, one less creepy. Certainly that's what she would have done a couple years ago. But, well, she didn't have much luck with assignments these days, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to get another if she turned her nose up at this one.
Which didn't explain why she'd stayed in the theatre well after hours. It'd been easy enough to hide; a theatre had nooks and crannies that nobody checked, and she'd tucked herself away in a corner of the wardrobe, hidden amongst dusty velvet dresses and scratchy moth-eaten furs. When she finally judged it safe to come out, she pulled her mobile out of her bag, using the dim illumination from its screen to make her way through the deserted corridors backstage. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she hoped she'd know it when she saw it.
She caught a crack of light coming from the open door just before it shut again - definitely not ghosts, she decided, because why would ghosts need to open a door when they could just go through it? "Is someone there?" she hissed into the darkness, feeling incredibly foolish. For all she knew, it was a mass murderer who'd snuck into the abandoned theatre for the express purpose of slaughtering temps who were daft enough to think there was a mystery that needed solving.
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Donna knew the theatre was supposedly haunted (it was in an informational pamphlet she'd read one afternoon when she'd been really bored), but one ghost couldn't possess an entire cast, assuming that there even was such a thing. Any sane person would have written the entire thing off and asked the temp agency for a different assignment, one less creepy. Certainly that's what she would have done a couple years ago. But, well, she didn't have much luck with assignments these days, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to get another if she turned her nose up at this one.
Which didn't explain why she'd stayed in the theatre well after hours. It'd been easy enough to hide; a theatre had nooks and crannies that nobody checked, and she'd tucked herself away in a corner of the wardrobe, hidden amongst dusty velvet dresses and scratchy moth-eaten furs. When she finally judged it safe to come out, she pulled her mobile out of her bag, using the dim illumination from its screen to make her way through the deserted corridors backstage. She wasn't sure what she was looking for, but she hoped she'd know it when she saw it.
She caught a crack of light coming from the open door just before it shut again - definitely not ghosts, she decided, because why would ghosts need to open a door when they could just go through it? "Is someone there?" she hissed into the darkness, feeling incredibly foolish. For all she knew, it was a mass murderer who'd snuck into the abandoned theatre for the express purpose of slaughtering temps who were daft enough to think there was a mystery that needed solving.