A huge whiteboard on the wall outlined several newspaper clippings chronicling the tragic events in the first – and last – representation that took place at the Grand Theater of the city. Everything was there: images of firemen trying to fight the fire, the survivors in tears standing in front of the burning building. Even pictures taken during the funeral of the victims. On one of them, there was a child aged nine or ten who was standing in front of two tombstones. A shadow passed by the whiteboard and paused for a moment to caress the picture with its fingertips.
The shadow groaned, remembering the inscription on the plaque. There was no mention of its parents nowhere. Nobody remembered them, who they were. But the situation would soon change. Looking up, the shadow looked down at a class photo taken at little school. Then its gaze slid to a more recent picture from a few months ago. Smiling faces had been surrounded by a thick red circle.
“When they’ll be all in one place, I finally have a chance.”
Taking a deep breath, a bad smile lit its face. Everything would be perfect once its revenge shall be satisfied. And it’ll be soon.