Shawn reached into the Book and felt a strange jolt. One second he was tumbling downward, the wind through his hair. The next, he was lying awkwardly, head twisted against something hard, knees drawn up towards his chest. He opened his eyes a bleary crack. It was dark, but there
was a faint glow coming from somewhere. From the stage...

Shawn tried to get his bearings, looking for the Book, and more importantly, Bobby. He'd seen him in the picture, right? Hopefully he hadn't gone too far.

Shawn looked over and saw the Book by his side. It was face down, the tongue still wagging in the air like some kind of kite, lolling to and fro, weightless as it shifted back and forth.

All around him he saw the wooden chairs of the theater. The wood was old and stained with age. On some of the chairs there were hooded costumes and props, draped over the backs. The red curtain hung closed on the stage, giving the impression that no show was about to be played. Or maybe that no play had been performed in the theater for a very, very long time.

Bobby was standing over Shawn as Shawn managed to clear his head and focus, eyes adjusting to the darkness.

"We......" He trailed off. And then "Are we inside the Book?" He asked Shawn. And as soon as the words came out of Bobby's mouth, they both knew it to be true.

Shawn felt a wave of relief when he discovered Bobby and the Book were near. "I...I think we are."

He got to his feet, picked up the Book, and started looking around the theatre in more detail, trying to get a sense of the room. He picked up and took a closer examination of a few of the costumes; at the very least it might tell him what kind of shows went on here...and the size of the actors. "Okay, we have to think. The Book showed us this place for a reason, right?"

"That's right." Bobby agreed, sounding somewhat less confident, but nevertheless looking around the theater, browsing. He picked up the red robe and said "Looks like a bunch of different costumes."

Shawn could see them too. There were medieval costumes, tunics and long pantaloons. Then there were old-time Civil War soldier uniforms. Draped over a few chairs in the corner were long haired wigs, blonde, brown and brunette. There was also face paint with large, oversized clown ties. A few cowboy hats, boots with spurs and six shooters. There were child costumes of boys and girls in what looked liked costumes from House on the Little Prairie. There were old fireman and cop costumes from the 1920s leaning against the side of the stage up front. It was hard to know where to begin and from the look on Bobby's face, he seemed somewhat overwhelmed by it all.

The clown ties and face paint made Shawn a little nervous - a reminder of the ones that came after him all those months ago. Still, he decided to pocket a case of face paint, just in case; if there were any clowns, maybe he could barter with it? Sure, it didn't make a ton of sense, but it made him feel like he was a little more in control.

Still, they didn't seem to be making much headway in the audience seating. He started heading towards the stage. "Why don't we check backstage? In real theatres, that's where they keep the important stuff."

They climbed the side stairs and headed up to the stage. Memories about plays that Shawn had been in elementary school dressed in large, oversized, fluffy costumes - parents ooo-ing and awe-ing at their children - invaded Shawn's thoughts.

Peeling back the curtain and heading back stage, there was a whole new crop of theater items. There were large weapon props, haunted looking masks. One was a devil costume with horns protruding out the front of the forehead. A pitchfork with steel-looking barbs sat next to several medieval swords and a few spiked clubs. There was a large mirror that was oval shaped and cracked. It sat in the corner next to masks that were handing on a nearby coat rack, their faces drawn and leering. Some had sharp teeth while others had drawn, sinewy-looking flesh. In the corner of the room, there was a desk with some loose papers, next to what looked like a ledger.

"Wow!" Bobby exclaimed. "I'm not sure what this has to do with getting to my family. I'm starting to think we might have to do this more than once." He fretted. Then, he looked distracted.

"Look at these weapons! There so cool! I wish I had these kinds of things at home. Do you ever get to use stuff like this in the movies? Maybe we should take some back. Or just play with them here." He suggested, getting carried away in the moment.

Shawn couldn't help but look back fondly on his early days of acting at school. He'd really had fun back then; he had a fluffy lamb costume all the adults cooed over, and he ended up with more lines than anyone else - mostly because he was the one who'd actually memorise them. From there it was community theatre, then public access TV, then commercials...it was hard to place where exactly it had stopped being fun.

Still, he'd always enjoyed the costumes, even the scary ones. Especially the scary ones, since they often came with cool special effects and makeup. But after spending a minute or two going through them with Bobby, he decided to go and look at the desk and ledger. This wasn't just for fun - it was a rescue mission, and they had to gather intel.

It took a few seconds for Shawn to process. The ledger was a record book. A book of recorded dates from as far back as the early late 19th century. The first year was recorded as 1896. There were breaks in time, every ten years before new entries would be made.

As Shawn flipped through the pages of cursive writing and charts, he could see Bobby was next to him, following the information with widening eyes. They skipped through the 1940s, 1950s and 1960s. Flipping ahead to the 1980s, Shawn read a number of names. One of them was Jody's, but it had been scratched out with a single line, as if it didn't belong in the book anymore. It dawned on Shawn that this may have been a book for recording dead kids and others, but not necessarily those who still were on the list to be captured. After all, Shawn couldn't find his name in the charts.

Somewhere in the middle of the chart on the last page, Bobby let out a gasp. He fell to the floor crumpled. Before Shawn turned to him, he noticed the last name on the chart was April Brown.

"That's it!" Bobby cried out in anguish, pointing to the Book as tears streamed down his face. "They're all on there! They're dead! My family is dead!"

Shawn was frozen with guilt for an instant when he saw April Brown's name; while he hadn't held the knife, he knew this was someone he'd killed. But seeing Bobby in pain snapped him out of it, and he knelt down to hug him. "It'll be okay, it's going to be okay..."

Bobby sobbed. As Shawn spoke he could see his friend's body sag down to the floor, the sense of hopelessness descending on him.

But the scene was short-lived. Unexpectedly, the boys were interrupted. There was a sound on the left side of the stage, and Shawn glanced in that direction to see a boy in a costume standing there. He black mask wad tight fitting around his face, obscuring his eyes. The outfit looked like a superhero costume of some kind. It stood out among the dark atmosphere of the theater. Even Bobby stopped sobbing for a moment to take notice of this newcomer.

"Oh ..." The kid remarked in a voice that suggested that he wasn't much older than 4 or 5.

"You got trouble to be in here now." It was a broken phrase. Not that of a foreigner, but of a small child that couldn't speak that well.

"I get Mr. Cherrywinks, 'cause don't like that you here and he going to want to take the souls of children. Then if I get him the souls of children, I can get big present." he remarked.

OOC: Shawn Rolls Presence + Composure

OOC: 12:28, Today: Shawn Cramer rolled 2 successes using 4d10 with the World of Darkness nWoD system with a target of 8, rerolling 10s with rolls of 9,8,3,3.  Presence + Composure .