Scars // OPEN
For three months, the opera house had been free of disturbances. The supposed “Winter Soldier” that once haunted the halls seemed to have disappeared when Alumina left to marry Bruce Banner. In celebration of this as well as the fact that the opera house was performing a new piece, the owners decided to throw a masquerade ball. Everyone was to be dressed in masks and formal wear of all kinds. Alumina had her blue hair tied up into a beautiful bun with little crystal pins holding it together. Her long blue dress resembled something that Aphrodite herself would’ve worn. And she also had Bruce Banner’s engagement ring on a chain around her neck.
When she and Bruce entered the opera house, things were all aglow. People dancing and singing, music echoing throughout the halls, pure joy and bliss on everyone’s face, Alumina couldn’t get enough. She had missed this dearly, especially the camaraderie of the cast.
Bruce took her hand and started dancing with her as the music began to swell.
“Masquerade! Paper faces on parade, Masquerade! Hide your face so the world will never find you. Masquerade! Every face a different shade, Masquerade! Take your fill let the spectacle astound you-“ The music changed almost immediately after the last verse, switching to a far darker and rather familiar tune to Alumina. She felt a chill run down her spine as she heard loud gasps of surprise and cries of terror as a figure appeared on the top of the stairs.
Him.
Alumina turned around, her eyes meeting his as pure horror and fear spread through her body. She couldn’t say a word.
Like a vision formed directly from the smoke of Edgar Allan Poe's dark consciousness, the Red Death stepped into the crowded hallway. He was a walking chemical weapon, spreading plague wherever he went. Poison that caused the orchestra to change their tunes. He was no longer the dutiful soldier, but an assassin, bringing death to all that blocked his path.
"Why so silent, my dear comrades?" he asked to the now silent room, giving a salute, "did you think that I had left you for good? You cannot dishonorably discharge the Winter Soldier. I outrank you all, and it's about time I began to properly exert my power." With this, he held out the pile of papers, marching down the stairs and motioning for the revelers to make two parallel lines to receive him. "
This is my opera house, and thus, I have written you an opera. It's only right, isn't it? Now you see, my finished score. I expect you'll take the proper steps to ensure its success. Miss Potts must learn to act, a beautiful yet soulless voice can only get you so far. Madame Romanova is to be given full directorial and coriographical duties. Out with the talentless hacks that claim to know anything about art.
"As for our star, Miss Alumina Stark..." he sneered through the skull-shaped gas mask at Alumina, as he walked toward her "or rather, Miss Alumina Banner," he took her hand in his gloved one, "No doubt she'll do her best, it's true. her voice is good, she knows. Though should she wish to excel, She has much still to learn," his free hand danced across her masked cheek, "if pride will let her return to me, her teacher...her commander...her Soldier. I am still your superior officer, Alumina, and you are still bound to me, even if you have attempted to go AWOL. Your chains are still mine. You belong to me." With this, his hands fell away from Alumina's skin. Slowly, he marched back through the parallel lines and up the stairs. When he'd reached the top, he wasted no time pulling the pin of a smoke grenade, using the cover to escape unseen into the cellars.
