I looked at the people around me. And something inside me — snapped.
Nope, this time, I wasn't spooked by monsters or shadowy beasts. What I saw were regular people—frozen stiff in place, their faces glued into expressions that didn't twitch a single muscle. The audience was stuck like statues, a gallery of human emotion caught mid-pose.
Someone had a hotdog halfway to their mouth, a bit of bun jammed in their teeth. Another one was trying to drink from a cup, and the liquid just trickled endlessly down onto the ground. There were even couples—one guy had his girl up on his shoulders, or a dad holding his kid high—and they were frozen like that, just freaky living sculptures.
Some smiles stretched so wide they looked painful, and those lifeless eyes didn't reflect a damn thing. A few folks were stuck in dance poses like they were mid-social media, but forgot how to move to the next beat.
Brrr... I could feel my brain slowly bailing on me, so I asked my friends: – Am I the only one seeing this?
Silence. No response. The built-in wave transmitter wasn't working. I tried
a few more times, but nothing. Radio silence.
So yeah, I was completely alone. Just me and a thousand mannequin-people with expressions that looked like they were bought in bulk.
I pulled myself together and came to one brilliant conclusion: if I didn't keep moving, I'd turn into another statue in this messed-up wax museum of human feelings.
…But hail thou goddess, sage and holy, Hail divinest Melancholy, Whose saintly visage is too bright - to hit the sense of human sight; and therefore to our weaker view, O'er-laid with black, staid Wisdom's hue; - -Il Penseroso. John Milton
Look, I'm not the dramatic type. I don't usually drown in this mushy emotional vanilla sauce. But today? Yeah. Today was a whole buffet of gothic vibes. The nightmare delivery guys brought the goods, and they didn't even need a tip.
No matter how rattled I was—and okay, I was legit scared—I still noticed something weird: the stage was totally unlit. I mean, concerts come with spotlights, lasers, and other flashy nonsense, but this platform? Just a few poles with blank banners fluttering in the wind. No logos, no names, nothing to say who the hell was supposed to be playing.
I shoved my way forward, pushing these music-lovers aside like I was bulldozing my way through a wax museum. Nobody reacted. Their bodies felt stiff to the touch, and I didn't have time for politeness. I kept going, forcing my way toward the stage. That's where the answers had to be. I could feel it in my guts.
The meditative music spilling from the stage faded into something even softer—more like a lullaby made of stardust. And then—get this—a freaking organ kicked in. Someone's invisible hands were straight-up dancing across the keys, and the orchestra joined in like they were conjuring sound outta thin air.
Sucks that you couldn't throw roses or panties at these musicians. 'Cause the stage? Empty. No humans, just ghosts. And yet the music played.
Instruments floating mid-air, doing their thing like magic. Bows pulled across strings, drumsticks hit the beat, and a conductor's baton floated, directing the whole phantasmic rave.
Darling, finally, we found you! – Said a tired but very familiar voice off to the side.
My eyes slid over the frozen teens locked in rapture, and there they were: Antwan and Julia, looking like they'd run a marathon, tongues out, still smiling like goofballs.
Where the hell did you two come from?
Okay, yeah, I sounded rude. They both flinched. A little guilt tickled me, but honestly? With everything I'd been through, I was hanging by a thread. And unlike the strings on those haunted instruments, the string of my sanity was this close to snapping.
-Ali, oh my god, it's you! We finally reached you. Mia had to max out all her skills to trace your signal and get us here.-
Hearing Antwan's voice in my head should've comforted me. Should've. But I didn't rush in for a hug. Nah, fool me once. I just squinted at their faces, reading every pore like I was scanning for fakes.
Antwan's right, sweetie! It took serious work to find you – Julia chirped, her voice sugary enough to cause cavities. – Your tracker helped, but the signal was weak, glitchy as hell. We stumbled around in the dark forever! What else did you secretly install on my implant? – I snapped, and then sighed. – Doesn't matter. How the hell did you even get here so fast? I've only been here fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, tops.
They exchanged that look. You know the one. The -oh crap, how do we explain this- look. Then Antwan spoke up, avoiding my eyes:
Well, here's the thing… you've been gone twelve hours. When the connection dropped, we totally lost our Thought maybe it'd fix itself
—but nope. Hours passed, and still no word. We worked with Mia to lock onto your tracker, and finally got a ping. Thank god we did, because I was starting to think… y'know… RIP and all that. So yeah, we didn't wait—we came to get you.-