“So what’s been going on?”

“Haven’t you heard?”

“You seen it, too?”

“Yeah, yeah, it was so freaky!”

“Think we have a ghost here?”

“Hell yeah we do!”

These questions and conversations—what started as whispers and inquiries—soon swelled in frequency, and more people were discussing it, both cast and crew alike, though mostly the cast. When production and filming began things were going smoothly. It was only midway through production when the first strange occurrences began (first offstage, then on). The isolated incidents even started out small, and the cast found them easy to brush off. And yet, the shadows of an unknown origin, the unusual sounds of something sharp scratching at metal, and a rather tall figure spotted out of the corner of people’s eyes were getting hard to ignore.

Marc Sandres, one of the newest additions to the cast, heard these whispers and talk of these events with disbelief. All this talk sounded like the cast and crew were making up a better story than what was being filmed. After the age of twelve he stopped believing in the supernatural, though that didn’t stop him from enjoying a good haunted house movie.

“Hey man!” A blonde man greeted Marc while he waited at the bus stop. The sun was just about to set over the city horizon. “Been a long while, how’s it hangin’?”

“Hey Matt…” Marc said, his voice less enthusiastic than it would’ve been two months ago.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just want to get home.” Marc’s arms were crossed, mostly to shield himself from the cold evening air.

“Okay. So what’s been new with you? How’ve you been making your way up in theater?”

“Haven’t been in anything notable in a while.”

“Oh. Well, you been up to anything?” He scratched the back of his head.

“I am acting in a movie now.”

“Dude! That’s great!” Matt exclaimed.

Marc didn’t respond.

“Or… Not great? That tiring?”

“Not exactly, just a pain. The script’s changed so many times now, so there’s been a lot of retakes. The director, or directors, have been a pain to work with.”

“Directors?” Matt raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You heard of the phrase “Too many cooks in the kitchen”? Well imagine that but with two people—both packing big egos and conflicting ideas on how the production should go..”

“Jeez…”

“Not to mention stubborn, too. I’ve tried telling both of them how stage production works and give them some pointers.”

Wait, why?” Matt cut him off.

“Because the movie’s partly about a play.”

“Ah.”

“So I’m telling them about it, since I’ve been in enough of them, but they don’t listen. And I’m barely getting to do what I’ve spent the last eight years training myself for.” Marc said, irked.

“Dancing?”

“Yeah. Instead they’ve given that to these two actors, Maria Lidtz, and Tim Shrey.”

“Who?” Matt brushing a stray strand of hair aside.

“Some teen drama stars. They’ve started becoming big names, so their cast in the lead roles.”

“Can they dance?”

“Not really… They barely have some basic moves down. Oh, and their roles also require singing too, yet they’ll just be dubbed over with some other people.”

“Then why were they—Oh right.”

“Yeah. To get some recognizable names on the poster. And meanwhile I’m stuck playing the ‘spicy Latino pretty boy’. Aside from that older than dirt stereotype, there’s just no substance in the role. I’d say I’m glad they don’t at least have me dancing with a rose between my teeth, but then again that’d mean I’d get to actually dance.” Marc closed his jacket as a cold breeze swept past him.

“If the role’s that minor, what’s to stop you from just quitting?” Matt asked.

“A paycheck. That’s what’s stopping me. College courses don’t pay for themselves, and I hoped that this would help give me some exposure.”

“Well, just get through it and hope it’ll be worth it.”

“And if it isn’t?”

“Well, you know you can go back to theater, or I could help you get a job where I’m working at. If you'd like, of course."

“Thanks for the offer.” Marc smiled.

The bus on route to Marc’s place finally arrived. Before climbing aboard he turned to Matt and said, “I gotta get home now. Got another busy day tomorrow. Guess I’ll be seeing you whenever I can.”

“Okay. You take care, man.”

“You too.” With that he walked onboard, the doors sliding shut after Matt had gone his separate way. The roaring bus made it’s way to where Marc was ready to crash on his bed for the night, another day of monotony ahead of him.

The following day, Marc decided to use his break to spend some much needed time away from the cast. Alone in the dimly lit studio, he got out a small sketchbook to concentrate his frustrations into the tip of the pen and onto the paper. Before he really got into it, a sound grabbed his attention: the flapping of a bird’s wings. There wasn’t a way for any bird to get into this room, was there? Seeing nothing, he went back to his book. Then he heard it again. This time he looked up to a walkway. He saw it. Even in the shadows he knew he saw a dark figure fade into the darkness. His eyes just barely made out a tall figure, draped in what appeared to be some sort of cloak or dress. Just as he spotted it, it vanished. From the distance it was at it could’ve easily been an illusion, but if the rumors held any weight it wasn't. The thought chilled his blood.

Marc went in to one of the back rooms where all of the costumes and props were stored. Not the ones for the current production, of course. The theater had been around for awhile and had housed many productions over the years. The costumes and props from these past performances were kept safely tucked away in the back rooms. If this supposed spirit he was seeing was just a prank, then where better a place for someone to get a costume? Looking through the outfits lined up on coat hangers he didn’t find anything matching the dark robe he saw, and nothing in that size, either. Even the pile of discarded costumes left in a bin didn’t have that. He didn’t even find a single mask.

So where did this mystery being get their attire from? And how was it so tall? He wondered. Of course, stilts! They probably found some stilts laying around here. He opened up the closet in the room, but nothing was there. Where would someone be hiding them? Unless they weren’t… Perhaps whoever was up to this was still in costume. It would explain the lack of masks, he told himself.