#does audio exist of this when he understudied | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatforgottenbasilisk · 5 months

Text

To the Dogs

Words: 2463 (AO3)

Summary:

Case #0151001: Statement of Tim Stoker, regarding plastic that refuses to bleed. Original Statement given 10th January, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

For Whumptober 2023 Day 23, Prompt #2: Stalking

The tape recorder is clicked on.

Statement of Tim Stoker, regarding plastic that refuses to bleed. Original Statement given 10th January, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London. Statement begins.

It's not right. Nothing about this is right, of course, but this... this isn't right. It's not fair.

I should get to make those damned things suffer, and yet they don't even have the decency to feel it. They don't breathe, they don't bleed, they don't fall or crash or burn and I am sick of it.

I am so fucking sick of it.

They fear me, of course. Everything does, when I feel that it needs to, but fear isn't enough. It will never be enough.

You don't know what I'm talking about, though. You don't know why I'm angry. You don't know what they are. That's alright, though, because you will. In due time.

There are monsters in this world, but you knew that. You're not that stupid. You might even be one of them, but don't worry- I don't have a grudge against you. You're safe from me, so long as you don't piss me off, but I can promise you that there is nothing that you can possibly do that can top what they've already done.

I used to be human, see. Normal. I also used to have a brother. Neither of those are true anymore, and that's because of them.

His name was Danny. He was my little brother, and I- I loved him more than anything. He'd been there as long as I could remember, the age gap between us small enough that to me, I had always had a little brother.

Then they took him. Technically you could say he went wandering in on his own, a lamb walking into a lion's den, but they are abominations. They were never mean to exist. They were never meant to be alive. A better comparison would be a person walking into a pit of demons- demons aren't real, never have been, never will be, as they shouldn't be. A child crawling under his bed, to find that there really is a monster there- moments before he is devoured by a thing that does not care that it is an aberration.

Danny went wandering into a performance hall, long abandoned by humanity and long under the control of I Do Not Know You. The Strangers.

They killed him. I don't think they even hesitated, like a pack of hyenas, filthy opportunists, no honor and no sense of fairness and that's not the point but something about it grates at me.

He never had a chance. He never would've had a chance if he'd wandered into a pack of my own kind, I know that, I know that, he'd be dead no matter what he'd run into, but I- I am still angry. I am still seeking revenge.

I hate them. The Strangers. The Circus. They disgust me.

It doesn't matter what I do, not to them. No matter how many I make sure stay down, they always come back with more numbers, more extras, more mannequins, more understudies ready to take the place of whatever so-called "performer" I managed to put down. They don't even mourn their dead.

Even animals mourn their dead.

Are they too stupid for it? Is there nothing more to them than the masks and the costumes they bear? Just made-up faces and base instincts, nothing going on behind their painted eyes?

I don't care what they are. I don't care if they have any kind of real awareness of their actions. I'll make them suffer as well as I know how, and whether that means what I do is just an inconvenience in the end, then so be it. There's nothing more than that I care about anymore.

I used to care, of course. I used to be so bitter, so angry, and that's what molded me into this. I won't pretend I'm any better than they are, now, because there's too much blood on my hands to deny it, but the difference is everything I kill deserves it. They kill whatever's new and shiny and catches their attention for more than a fraction of a second.

After they killed Danny is when I was the angriest. I was lost and confused, with nothing and no one to take it out on, or to explain a goddamned thing to me. I didn't know why Danny was gone, not really, just that he went into the wrong place at the wrong time and got what he never deserved. I didn't know what that anger, that bitterness, could turn me into, but I don't regret it. I just wish I'd been able to do it earlier, so maybe, just maybe, I could have gone in with him. Gave Danny a fighting chance.

I know it's not realistic. I know it wouldn't have happened that way, but I can still imagine it. Danny can still be alive in a fantastical other world that exists only in my head.

Enough about that, though. You want a story, right? That's what these things are for, not my ranting and raving about the fucking mannequins.

How about the first time I killed one of them?

It was barely a month after Danny died. It wasn't a full-on mannequin, barely even a children's doll on the scale of things. It was a pathetic, pitiful thing, and I was just as much killing it as putting it out of its misery. Maybe it was young, new, freshly not-all-there anymore, and it just had enough of itself left to know that something was wrong but not have the faintest idea what. That didn't stop it from trying to prey on people, though, so it received the dubious honor of being the first.

It was the end of my first week back at work, I remember that clearly. I'd had to take time off, for the funeral and the arrangements and things, as well as the police deciding to question me about it, insisting that I had had something to do with it, insisting that I was jealous, or- or angry at him. I still don't like any of the police because of that, no matter how similar some of them may be to me now.

It was the very first Friday I'd been back, and I'd gone to a pub- not quite to celebrate, more to mark off a little milestone for myself. To end that part of my life, the part where everything is all about how Danny's gone. Yeah, I was drinking alone, but it wasn't all that much and I wanted to get a little closer to normalcy without doing my usual interacting with coworkers and having a whole night out. I wasn't up for that.

I was walking back home in the dark, only a little tipsy, when I heard something in the alleyway nearby. It wasn't very well lit in that part of the street, so I assumed it was either something I had no business in or would only make worse by stepping in, so I decided to ignore it and keep walking. I nearly succeeded, I nearly just went about my night and ended up remaining the same man I was before, getting over the grief and the anger like almost everybody else, but something stopped me.

"Help me."

It was a faint whisper coming from the alleyway, clearly a woman's voice, high and broken in a way that somehow reminded me of a recording inside of one of those baby dolls that talks. Something about it felt like a broken music box, an antique made of porcelain, a cracked piece of delicate finery that has long since passed its time.

I wasn't so far gone to ignore it at that point. I pivoted over to the alleyway, hesitating only in judging if there was anything in my way, and walked inside with caution to the wind. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but I eventually saw the human-shaped lump sitting on the filthy concrete and leaning against the brick wall. I crouched down near her, waiting for my eyes to adjust a bit more to see what was wrong.

Her skin was very pale, almost bone white. She looked delicate, with very thin bone structure, though her hair was thin and lank and her eyes were sunken and dull. She wasn't quite looking at me, more watching the mouth of the alleyway, and she didn't move a muscle. I didn't think it strange, how still she was, and it wasn't until later that I realized she wasn't breathing at all.

I didn't know what her kind was responsible for, not yet. I hadn't gone wandering into Danny's tomb until much, much later.

I waited, for a moment, before asking, "How can I help?" It was basic, but sincere- I'd still cared, back then. Danny was gone, everything I'd had was gone, but I still somehow had hope in the world.

She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she turned her head to me, remaining perfectly level, like she was slowly moving it on a swivel. Her face didn't move, not even when she spoke, in that same high whisper, "I don't know what's wrong with me. Something's gone missing."

Her tone was so flat, and yet at the same time it was desperate. I didn't know how to respond, I didn't know how to try to help, but then she kept talking.

"Maybe you have it. Maybe I can get it back by taking it from you."

All of a sudden, she moved. She started attacking me, her fingernails turned to something clawlike and plastic, trying to swipe at my chest, just above my heart. Is that what she was looking for? Was it a beating heart that she was missing, or was it just her human soul?

I don't know, and I guess I never will. I fought her off, despite the fact that I overbalanced and nearly fell over right when she caught me by surprise, but I did fight her off. I started beating her face in, making sure that she would stay down and not try to kill anybody else, and it took more than a few moments to realize that I'd smashed her head right open.

She wasn't even human enough to bleed anymore. Her skull was completely empty, completely white, and whatever it was made of couldn't have possibly still been bone. It broke too cleanly, too neatly, like safety glass that smashes into little cubed pieces that don't cut anyone.

I didn't really register what I did until the morning. In the moment, I stood up and backed away, resuming my walk home. In the morning, I went back to that same alleyway to find absolutely nothing there.

There were more, after that. They're usually plastic, so they usually don't even have the decency to be anything approaching satisfying. Half the time they just let me kill them- it's not like they even care anymore. There's no identity to cling onto, so they know that they'll live on in the next thing that decides to take their face.

Statement ends.

- ... Well. This was... certainly interesting.

- I'd wager quite a bit that this Tim Stoker would get along quite well with Trevor Herbert, the so-called 'vampire hunter,' were he still alive. First vampires and now talking dolls, how many more delusional serial killers am I going to find Statements from in here? They really do just let anyone in here, don't they...

- Ahem. Anyway. Sasha's been doing the follow-up for this one, and though she did find police records regarding the disappearance of Danny Stoker, only vague details were available no matter where she looked or who she may have impersonated. Apparently, it's extremely restricted access, and is tied to an ongoing case, likely that of Tim Stoker himself. I would wager that he was telling the truth on one thing- he wouldn't have murdered his brother, not if that's what he's citing as the event that caused him to go off the deep end. Of course, I may be wrong, and Mr. Stoker may simply be deluding himself on the actual origin of his obvious psychosis, but I'll give the man at least a little bit of the benefit of the doubt.

- As for current records on Mr. Stoker, he apparently quit his job at a publishing company towards the end of 2013, and he has not been able to be reliably contacted since. In the time since he left his job, he has become the prime suspect for the murders of...

- [Muffled] Sasha? Can you come in here for a moment?

- [Muffled, distant] In a minute, I'm a little busy right now!

[Footsteps]

- Yes, Jon?

- Are these- is this correct? The legal names of all of Tim Stoker's alleged victims, is this the final list or are these placeholder names?

- Oh, they're all real. Believe me, I checked. Apparently their real names are John Doe, Jane Doe, and Max Mustermann, which would be...

- John Doe, but in German this time. Of course it is. So are there any bodies or anything attached to these names, or are they just pinning crimes on this random man?

- Well, see, that's the weird thing. There were three bodies, with identification cards on them and everything, except all three of their IDs are fake. Also, all three of them were suffering from some kind of skin condition, because apparently they didn't have any body hair and their dermal tissue was practically plastic. No DNA could be extracted from any of them, either, because they'd been completely drained of blood. Somehow. Just... no DNA, no body hair, and skin made of plastic. With those names.

- So- bear with me here- is it possible that this man is being held responsible for the murders of three dolls? Test dummies, perhaps?

- I think he might've been going around stabbing those animatronic things, like they've got in Disneyland? Except murder makes a better headline than property damage, so they've labeled him a murderer when he's really just a man who hasn't hurt anyone and just needs help.

- I wouldn't say he's harmless.

- Well, he hasn't killed anyone, then. At least, nobody that they can connect him to. Honestly, don't tell me you believe any of those are real people.

- Of course not.

- There we go! Anyway, is that all you needed?

- I believe so. Thank you.

- No problem!

[Footsteps]

- Right. Well. That answers that, then. There's not much information available on Mr. Stoker other than that, so... end recording, I suppose.

The tape recorder is clicked off.

#tma #tma fic #my writing #To the Dogs #To the Dogs fic

0 notes

emeraldskulblaka · 5 years

Text

Anastasia Stuttgart - January 12, 2019 - 15:00 - Act One

First off, I rarely write reviews, and I'm not an expert on all things Anastasia - I haven't seen this musical live before, it's been a while since I've watched the Broadway videos from 2017, and I've only listened to bits and pieces of the existing German audios, so I might find things interesting or cute that are just normal to others ♡

I love the Stage theatres in Stuttgart. They're located in the SI Centrum, with lots of restaurants, cafés and souvenir shops. While those are pretty expensive, it's a great way to really get into the mood, plus, you don't have to go outside (which is convenient when you arrive almost two hours early and it's snowing like it did yesterday).

My seat was perfect. I didn't remember the Stage Palladium started counting seats from the middle, so when I saw seat number 1 on my ticket (I got it from my travel agency), I was a little disappointed and expected to miss part of the action. But I was literally right in the middle, row 19. Perfect view of the stage:

This is the prettiest curtain I've ever seen. It's snowing, you can see tiny snowflakes falling. It changes after the first act - it additionally says 'Anastasia' in the middle then.

Almost all of the principal cast were on, with the exception of Susanna Panzner as Lily instead of Jaqueline Braun. The least amount of understudies I've ever seen in a major production! I was lucky, too, because usually there are understudies on on weekends (like Fabian Kaiser as Dimitri today) (not that understudies are bad, I repeat, but as you know I always see a lot of understudies, so this is a nice change):

Luckily, little Anastasia's wig wasn't as ugly as the one in the official picture:

The Dowager Empress almost dropped the music box when giving it to her grandchild XD but she covered it well and was SO SWEET with Anastasia, and so genuine. You could tell that Yade Soyal hadn't been on that often before because she was really quiet and a bit shy, but it got better with every word she sang.

The Tsarina's gown is SO IMPRESSIVE. Wow. And then the Tsar aka Kirill Zolygin aka fave came on, and when he walked past his wife, he put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed a bit, which made her smile brightly.

The ball scenes were quite impressive. The funniest part was when Alexei fell down and suddenly everyone had no idea what to do next - ahhh there's someone to take a photo let's go there!!

When the photos are taken, as well as later when the palace is taken, lights are flashing from both sides of the stage - they didn't announce them, and I'm not bothered by them, but they could have given a warning, imo. I think they're used again later during Anya's nightmare.

During A Rumour in St Petersburg, Dmitry imitates Gleb's movements and mocks him, and Milan and Mathias, while being back to back to each other, were perfectly in sync.

The audience LOVED Milan from the beginning, but he charmed everyone with his reactions during the audition scene.

Vlad hid behind his coat when they heard someone entering the palace lmao

Judith's Anya is confused, insecure and sassy at the same time. In this scene, she seemed a little unsure about where she wanted to go with her portrayal.

The way Milan delivered the line 'Die kippt uns gleich aus den Latschen' with a little squeak in his voice was priceless.

In My Dreams was so moving. I think I like this song even better than OuaD and JttP. While Judith's voice was a bit soft throughout, she acted so beautifully.

Learn to Do It was fun, especially the failed dance attempts. 'Got it Anya?' 'NO' Anya is overwhelmed. And then the memory with the black (!) cat. Adorable.

I know many have criticised the decision to cast Mathias Edenborn as Gleb as obvious and not at all original and stuff. But. He really does justice to the role. I think I like him better than Ramin o.O that man can SING. The Neva Flows was very impressive, his voice filled the theatre effortlessly. And the set omg the set. What a pity to photo of it has been released. It's not necessarily realistic but I loved it!

The fight scene in the club was choreographed poorly. For some reason I remembered pretty well from the bootleg, and Christy really went off! Maybe someone missed a cue, because Judith seemed to expect someone behind her when there wasn't, and Milan looked a little lost at some point as well.

He still nailed My Petersburg! What a range! Their chemistry really showed here, what an awesome scene in total. The audience's reaction was meh though, I'd expected more from them. How lazy of you not to honour Milan's performance hhhh

I almost cried during Once Upon a December, all the dancers on the walls left and right of the stage, Anya's family dancing around her, herself being lifted up in the air, the melody. How magical. Judith's voice always sounds like she has a cold in this - I had noticed in the audios, but had thought of it as a recorder problem, but she really sounds like that? She totally has the range, and it doesn't seem like an acting choice of sort, so idk. I've noticed something similar with Christy's voice, and it surely has something to do with her barely contained emotions. Same for Judith, maybe?

Stay I Pray You is so emotional. I had already been close to crying at OuaD, so I had a hard time during this song. I love Kirill's voice excuse me ~ even though I can't relate to the song myself (that's another topic I won't discuss on this account ever), it was so moving. I had the goosebumps I only get rarely during performance's any more - I guess one gets more picky with time, without being able to control it at all.

Had Mathias even done anything before he started singing Still? I don't think so.

Right before Journey to the Past, when Anya is staying behind, she's bursting with excitement and doing little jumps, almost running after Dmitry and Vlad, before remembering her suitcase and what lies ahead. As expected, Judith totally smashed it!

To be continued ...

#anastasia das musical #review #judith caspari #milan van waardenburg #mathias edenborn #susanna panzner #understudy love #eva watches musicals

18 notes · View notes