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A Poor Soul in Hell

Cautiously Patrice poked her nose just inside the door, careful to still keep the stranger in sight. Her ears perked to catch any hint of sound as her eyes struggled to focus in the gloom.

A tiny whimper, almost mouse-like, caught her ear, and as she turned to investigate its source a small child poked its head out from behind a pillar.

“Who have we here?” the stranger murmured curiously, making to approach. Patrice thrust out her arm to stop him.

“We don’t need to frighten the creature off,” she hissed. “We’ll find out what’s amiss in due time.”

As if on cue the child, a girl of about ten, gestured for them to come closer, then pointed to the stage out beyond the sea of seats within the theater. She spoke haltingly: “W-went down there, under the st-stage… Didn’t s-see coming out, an’-an’ jus’ now, screamed…”

Patrice furrowed her brow in confusion. She looked to the stranger, who surveyed the stage knowingly. “Poor soul,” he said, “lost in the bowels of Hell.”

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