"I didn't expect to be so early, meeting you," he smirked at us.
I pulled out and pointed at him with the revolver. Sharp colorless eyes. The crowd was cheering for us.
"Ow, looks like something is trying to step into the show," his mood raised. The spotlight started to shine on us. Our views blurred.
Immediately, Philia cast an ice spike and blew it towards the spotlights. As the light went off, I heard footsteps behind me.
I spun my head backwards. The man suddenly appeared standing in front of me. Wasn't the man on the stage before? I pointed the revolver at the forehead.
"Try shooting me. You can choose, either my forehead… or my chest," he grinned.
My consciousness acted foolishly. Without hesitation, I pulled the trigger. The revolver fired. A stained crimson bullet went off, and it hit the man on his forehead.
As soon as the projectile pierced him, the man was ripped apart from the inside. A scramble of bloody fractals, fascinated. Blood spilled down. The body descended. Unmoved.
People cheered on "our performance."
Suddenly I felt an ache in my hand. It became wound and weakened. My revolver slipped off. The consequences that I forgot happened.
"Sadly the odds were zero to kill my mannequin," suddenly a voice whispered in my right ear.
"Rirt, are you good?" Philia said it faster than usual. She saw me as weaker, with the man on my back.
"Get off you brat," she shouted to the man.
The man turned his face to Philia and walked closer to her. Gently.
"Step off from me you shit," she miffed. Philia slowly stepped backwards towards the stage.
"Why, because you're scared of clowns? Or maybe because I accidentally killed Lethan?" The man enjoyed her fear.
Suddenly, frost spikes formed within the air. It was surrounded above the man's head. The ices were glistening vermillion red. The crowd went wild.
"You son of a bitch," Philia seethed as the patience went out.
The man looked at the spikes. Smiled.
"I got more and more delighted by you. Let's create our greatest performance from the last time," he joked.
As I've recovered from the injury, I picked up my revolver once again. Pointed at him.
The man went silent. The crowd turned upside down. His face was expressionless. Unhappy.
Then, Philia released the projectiles. It torments the man's body from every side. I fired the gun. The effect immediately succumbed to my hand. I began to weaken and descend.
As the bullet pierced the spikes, they shattered. It scattered into a cloud of glass shards. The bullet hit the man's body. Then, the body shredded into flesh. It formed an absurd leafless tree.
People were speechless. Philia and I thought that it was finished. An applause sound was heard. In silence, a person stood up.
"That was a horror show, I was thrilled," the person sounded familiar. Gentle and friendly.
Philia and I immediately gazed at him. The person in the spotlight. People looked at him and cheered.
"Ridere will love you guys to be part of him," he said.
Philia pulled out her own handgun and pointed it at the man. She shot him. The bullet landed on his forehead. Pierced.
"You're a little hard to compromise compared to Lethan," The man's voice was all over again.
"I will never join your madness pathway," Philia retorted.
Smoke appeared on the stage. Then, the man emerged from the smoke. The audience began to clap and cheer.
"Thank you ladies and gentlemen for today's performance," he said goodbye to the crowd.
"As for the last show, I will create beautiful fireworks," the man said.
I had a bad feeling about those words. The people were ready for the last show. They were controlled. Suddenly, I finally understood it.
The Pierrot pulled out his revolver. Then he shot it at the ceiling of the theater. The bullet travelled in slow motion. It left a trace of thick blood. As the bullet started to slow down, it blasted out.
"I hate this," Philia shuddered.
It radiated a glowing crimson liquor. The remaining formed a pattern of a rose, with those fractal accents. Surreal. The pattern began to rain down hitting the audience. It melted them.
My heartbeat fastened as the drops hit me. But the pain had numbed, leaving barely any sense of the injury. I gazed at the man. He grinned at us.
In those eyes, he showed his elation and harshness of motivation. Then slowly my vision darkened into the void. Euphoria went silent. The metallic smells went off.
Suddenly, I heard a heavy voice. It was full of excitement and curiosity.
"Interestingly, you react to nothing. Perhaps, you were born in contact with The Vacuity. This illusion will turn into a reality. Eventually, you enter the ruthless world and have nowhere to return. As the world starts to lose its identity."
I opened my eyes. I was in an empty theater. Was I in a dream? I gazed to my right, and it was Philia. She was in a deep nap.
Then something clicked, in my hand, there was a revolver. Clean. Nor a mark or stretch on it.
Without warning, a person stepped into my sight. I gazed up. The face, those mysterious eyes, and the smirk. It was The Pierrot.
I pointed my revolver at him and pulled the trigger. I shot him. With the bang noise filling the theater, the bullet pierced his neck. Created a hollow.
But he still stood upright. His body was unmoved. He put out his unsettled face on my, he grinned.
"How foolish are you," he lilted to me.
"What is your purpose here?" I asked.
He pulled out something. A deck of cards. He scrambled it over and over and accidentally dropped a card.
"Your emotionlessness was fun to experiment with. But your destiny wasn't attached to a string," he said as he picked up the fallen card.
He showed me a Joker card.
"You like a representation of uncontrollable nihility."
"That's not an answer," I insisted.
"It wasn't meant to be an answer. As I was controlled by my mastermind, his puppets," he replied.
I lowered my revolver. I realized something was off, the aftereffect of the revolver.
"Well, the revolver was attached to your name. If you throw it, you will die with that name." The puppet explained.
"Why must Rirthe Virtanous?" I asked.
"The only way to find out, is to act in this stupid illusion where humanity claimed that this was the reality," he answered. As he clicked his finger and dissolved into poker cards.
Left with no trace.