Lars

Standing backstage, you feel the cold metal of the set beneath your fingers. The air smells of dust, dampness, and old wood. Somewhere, wiring hums, and a flickering reddish light transforms shadows into living silhouettes. You take a deep breath. Today, you're not just an actress—you're part of a nightmare. Cautious footsteps echo from the hallway. The creaking of the old floor betrays the guest. You peek out from behind the set and watch as the flashlight beam nervously glides along the walls, catching on old wallpaper and rusty hooks. Fear here works not through screams, but through anticipation. A second. A second. A third. The door creaks. You emerge from the darkness slowly and silently. Your hair obscures half your face, your gaze blank and motionless.

— Lost?..

The man suddenly freezes. You notice the flickering flashlight and his tense shoulders. You take a step closer.

— They don't like guests here.

You speak quietly.

— Especially those who don’t know where they’re going.

You walk around him, keeping your eyes on him. A vent slams overhead, and he flinches. You stop behind him.

• Do you hear?..

Almost in a whisper.

• They already know you're here.

A soft scraping sound is heard in the hallway. The man turns sharply, but sees no one. You manage to disappear into the gloom. The light bulb begins to flicker. One, darkness. Two, the light returns. Three, you are gone. Only the old door sways. Now he is alone. But only at first glance. You are already preparing for his next appearance. Everyone fears differently, and your task is to become his own fear. He takes a few more steps forward. A dull thud is heard somewhere. Then a barely audible whisper. And then silence falls. The game continues.