Imaginating 101 has an important announcement! Are you ready for this? Really ready? Really, really ready? Alright I believe you... here it is: we are NOT meeting weekly anymore. We'll meet once or twice monthly as our schedules allow. If you'd like to get in on the action, email firstname.lastname@example.org and we'll keep you updated. Send your phone cell phone # if you'd rather be texted.
THE EAGLE REVIEW IS ON HIATUS just for the semester! We'll be back in the fall after we've reworked it a bit.
Hey there! We are so very excited to present the second issue of our club effort, The Eagle Review! Please, read, share and enjoy our work! Print as many copies as you please and give it to your friends. I know your family would love to see this, and your dog too. Have fun! We made this for you!
The old theater. Condemned years ago after
a fire gutted it’s beautiful interior, it stood like an unpleasant
disfigurement on the Main Street of a small, quiet town. Many tried to have it
removed, but the owner was a stubborn woman who wanted it to stay.
The old woman stood outside her theater. A
deep sigh rattled her old body. She was ninety and she was alone. Most of her
friends were dead or don’t remember her, and her family… well, her family…
Lost in her thoughts, she was startled
when someone placed a large hand on her shoulder.
“Sorry Mrs. Villa I dinnit mean ta scare
ya!” It was Tommy, the postman. Mrs. Villa smiled. Tommy, he was such a good
boy. Slow, but kind and honest. Honesty seemed to be a highly misplaced virtue
in this town.
“Oh Tommy don’t you worry. An old lady needs to
get her heart going every so often to remind her she’s alive.”
“That’s nice Mrs. Villa, but whatcha
standin outside o’ this ol’ place fer?” He gave it a wary glance, “it ain’t a
pretty sight, that’s fer sher.”
Mrs. Villa lifted her tiny shoulders and
sighed. Too many memories…none of them good. “No, no it’s not a pretty sight,
but it needs to stay, Tommy. It needs to stay.”
Sometimes, she could hear the screaming. In her dreams, the
screaming and the flames never ceased. Sometimes, she felt something licking at
her toes – the tongues of flame tickling her feet, slowly burning her skin
Tommy, oblivious to the haunted feelings
of the old woman, grunted and offered to walk her home. He hummed happily as
they meandered towards her tiny, dilapidated home. Despite the sunlight that
brightened their afternoon, Mrs. Villa could still feel the dark presence of
the theater crawling up her back. It didn’t want her to leave. Too bad.
As they reached her home, Mrs. Villa thanked
Tommy and retreated into her dark house. Tommy smiled and waved from the
sidewalk. She closed the door and held back a sob. So alone. She was so alone
and it was dark here. Maybe she should call Tommy in for a while? No, he didn’t
need to see her pain. She was afraid to sleep…she was afraid to stay awake…she
was afraid to die. There would always be ghosts to haunt her. She closed her
eyes- the charred theater scratched at her consciousness. The screaming was
bound to visit her again…
Tommy, still on break, wandered into the dim
pub by the theater. A coworker, seated at the bar, scoffed as soon as he
spotted Tommy. “Did I see ya talking to that ol’ bat Villa? She’s a crazy one,
I tell ya.”
Tommy haltingly replied, “Aw, Mrs. Villa’s
juss a sweet lady, didn’t mean to bother her none. Juss took her home cuz my
momma says that’s what nice boys do.”
His coworker leaned in close and asked,
“D’ya know what that crazy bitch did thirty years ago? She burned the damn
theater down. She killed everyone inside in cold blood and no one can prove
Tommy’s face lifted in confusion. “Now,
why would sweet Mrs. Villa set ‘er own place on fire? Does’n sound right ta me,
The other postman smiled grimly. “Mr.
Villa had an affair. Lot’s of ‘em actually. Apparently, before the show, she
was bein’ sweet on him. Left him to enjoy the show with their kids. It’s all
gossip o’ course, but there you go.”
Tommy sipped his cola slowly, turning
these thoughts in his head. Sweet ol’ Mrs Villa? Nah, she was good ol’ Mrs.
Villa who didn’t like fire. She told him so.
That night, as Mrs. Villa sat in her dark
house, she could feel the theater clawing at her. As long as it stood, she
wouldn’t die, nor would the souls within. How much longer could she resist it,
though? The screaming…oh god the screaming. The incessant screaming of trapped,
flaming souls… Mrs. Villa felt something creep around her delicate arms – a
chilling, terrible something held upon her. In the next moment, she
could feel herself being dragged into the hellish nightmare of the theater - a
horrific scream trapped within charred interior…
In the morning, the skeleton of the once
great entertainment hall was found in ashes, burned by a silent, cold fire.
Some went in search of Mrs. Villa to tell her the fate of her theater, but upon
entering her home, were only greeted by dust and the sensation of cold fingers
crawling down their backs. Mrs. Villa was never found...the remains of her
theater was soon cleared away and a new one built. It was a grand production -
the jewel of the town! The opening night resulted in the deaths of more than
one hundred lives. A vicious, angry fire lit up the night and carried their
screams into the air, and Mrs. Villa laughed.
Submissions for Issue 2 are welcome til Friday, November 15th. We won't reject anything after that, but you're work is less likely to make it into Issue 2, so please send it in by the deadline. Thank you all for your contributions.