Hi folks, I hope everyone is doing well. I am enjoying time away from the Internet and have been working on other writing projects.
I received a message from my phone yesterday that asked if I had been kidnapped. 🤣
In all seriousness, the break from the screen time has cleared my mind and feels refreshing.
I wanted to remind visitors here that my latest sci-fi novella, HOLOGRAMS, will be released on Saturday, May 2nd.
Coming May 2nd!
Holograms
In a world surrounded and grounded by the laws of physics, something impossible is unfolding.
A world-renowned quantum physicist has uncovered a terrifying truth hidden between two overlapping realities.
The appearance of a predator race of alien beings isn’t merely an invasion; it’s a complete rewrite of the universe, and the fate of all existence rests on the ability of one scientist to decode the truth before reality itself unravels into nothingness.
Click here to read the author interview
Please consider giving it a read.
In the meantime, I wanted to share with all of you a short story I wrote the other day:
The Movie Theater
The movie theater’s outside sign blinked on and off, as if it were not truly committed to doing its job.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Jane asked, looking out through the car’s windshield.
The letters on the sign above the theater entrance struggled to make themselves visible through the early evening hours— TONIGHT ONLY – THE INFERNO
Ryan checked the address on his Android. “This is it. The reviews said it was… ‘an unforgettable experience.’”
Jane scoffed. “I don’t know, Ryan, it looks pretty rundown to me.”
The theater stood alone at the end of a quiet street; its brick exterior looked as if it had seen better days, for sure. The ticket booth window was open, although no one seemed to be inside. A pile of paper tickets was situated on the counter.
“Hello?” Ryan called out.
A hand suddenly appeared from below the counter and pushed two tickets forward. With no face to converse with, Ryan and Jane exchanged a brief look with one another before Ryan took the tickets and dropped some cash into a small metal tray. The mysterious hand collected the money and quickly disappeared from view.
Inside, the lobby smelled of buttered popcorn. The carpet was faded with red and gold patterns, some portions looking more worn than others.
There were people in the lobby. One couple stood by the concessions stand, unmoving, their heads turned toward a menu board that listed snacks with outdated prices. A man in a gray suit sat on a bench staring straight ahead without blinking. No one spoke, checked a phone, or even acknowledged them.
“Okay,” Jane whispered, “this is weird.”
Ryan nodded then replied, “Maybe it’s all part of some sort of theatrical experience, like everyone’s in character.”
“Then they’re very committed,” Jane whispered back.
At the concessions counter, a young woman smiled when they approached. “Popcorn?” she asked.
“Sure,” Ryan said. “And two sodas.”
The woman placed the popcorn into a cardboard box and filled two cups with soda. When she handed him the refreshments, Ryan noticed her fingers felt uncomfortably cold.
“Enjoy the show,” she said, her smile lingering a few moments too long.
They found seats near the middle of the theater. The auditorium was much larger than it looked from outside, rows stretching back farther than seemed possible. The screen radiated light, curtains drawn back just enough to reveal the beginning of an old black-and-white film.
As they settled in, Jane leaned close to Ryan. “Do you notice something off in here?”
Ryan glanced around. The audience sat perfectly still. There was no whispering, moving about, and no one was eating any snacks.
The film had started abruptly, with no trailers or previews; it began with a strange scene: a large theater, eerily similar to the one they were currently sitting in. Many moviegoers in the production filled the seats, and laughter echoed from the theater speakers.
“Okay,” Ryan whispered, “that’s… pretty damn strange.”
A few more minutes passed.
The movie’s tone suddenly shifted. What began as a light drama soon took on a much darker theme. Characters in the film began to glance not only at each other but toward the camera, toward them.
Jane gripped Ryan’s arm. “I don’t like this one bit.”
“Me neither,” Ryan shot back.
A faint smell of smoke made its way through the theater.
At first, Ryan thought it was part of the experience, some special effect. But the haze in the air didn’t feel theatrical. It kept growing in intensity.
Onscreen, the movie audience began to panic. People stood, shouting as flames appeared near the stage curtains.
Behind them, someone coughed. It was a dry, hollow-sounding noise.
Ryan turned. It was the man in the gray suit, but now his face looked like something out of a horror movie. For a split second, Ryan thought he saw blackened, burnt teeth.
“Ryan,” Jane said, her voice trembling, “we need to go. Right now!”
He didn’t argue.
They stood and stepped into the aisle. As they moved, heads turned.
“Excuse us,” Ryan said politely, though no one was in their way.
Onscreen, the fire grew. The audience in the film surged toward the exit doors, only to find them locked.
Ryan grabbed Jane’s hand. “Run,” he yelled.
They hurried up the aisle. The air grew thicker, and the smell of smoke intensified.
Halfway up, Jane stumbled. The carpet beneath her foot felt uneven. She glanced down and saw it was burned.
They finally reached the doors. Ryan shoved one open, and the cool outside air hit them like a refreshing wave.
They didn’t stop running until they were safely in the car, doors locked, and the engine running. Ryan peeled out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
In the rearview mirror, the theater stood silent.
Dark.
“Did you see—?” Jane started.
“Yes,” Ryan interrupted. “We’re not going back.”
They drove in silence for several minutes before the tension finally broke.
“I need to be somewhere with people,” Jane said. “Real people.”
A restaurant sign appeared ahead. It read: OPEN. They had come upon a small roadside establishment with friendly lighting visible from the windows.
They pulled into the parking lot.
Inside, the atmosphere was the opposite of the theater. It was bright, noisy, alive. Dishes clattered, a waitress laughed, a radio played softly in the background.
They sat at a booth.
After a moment, the owner, a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a tired expression, came over with menus.
“You two look like you’ve seen a ghost,” he said.
Ryan let out a halfhearted laugh. “Something like that. Hey, there’s a theater down the road. An old place, showing classic films. Do you know the property?”
The man froze.
“Down the road?” he asked slowly.
“Yeah,” Jane said. “A brick building with an old-fashioned marquee. We just came from there.”
The owner set the menus down very carefully. “There’s no theater down that road,” he said.
Ryan frowned. “We were just—”
“It burned down,” the owner interrupted quietly. “Forty years ago.”
Silence settled over the table.
“What?” Jane whispered.
“An electrical fire,” he continued. “It started during a late showing. The blaze spread fast. The exits were locked. By the time firefighters got it under control…” He shook his head. “No one made it out of there alive.”
Ryan felt his stomach drop. “That’s not possible. We were just inside. There were people and staff.”
The owner’s eyes locked onto Ryan’s. “Consider yourselves lucky, you left when you did. When did you leave?”
“Very early in the movie,” Jane replied.
The man exhaled. “As I told you, you’re damn lucky,” he repeated.
A chill crept up Ryan’s spine. “Lucky?”
The owner leaned in slightly and lowered his voice. “Every so often,” he said, “someone comes in here talking about that theater, claiming it’s open again, saying they went to a show.”
Jane’s face tightened.
“And?” Ryan asked.
The owner hesitated. “Most of the time,” he said, “these folks come in telling a story like yours or someone else comes in here looking for them.”
Ryan swallowed. “What happens to them?”
The owner met his eyes. “They go missing or barely escape,” he said.
A long silence followed.
“People around here,” he continued, “we’ve noticed a pattern. The ones who make it out always leave early. Before the film reaches a certain point.”
Jane’s voice was barely audible. “Before the fire?”
He nodded. “They say once the fire starts in the movie, it’s too late. And if you’re still inside when it does…” He trailed off, then shook his head. “The theater doesn’t let you go.”
Ryan leaned back; his heart was pounding.
In his mind, he saw the screen again, the flames lighting up the curtains, the audience rising in silent panic. “How close were we?” he asked.
The owner gave a faint, humorless smile. “Close enough,” he said. “You smelled the smoke, right?”
Neither of them answered.
Ryan pushed his menu aside and stood up. “We’re not staying around here tonight,” he said.
The owner smiled and said, “Good idea! Maybe next time, instead of dinner and a movie, just skip the movie.”
THE END!
I will not be responding to emails or messages until later in May. I plan on returning to NoFakeNews in a few weeks after some more downtime. I needed this break badly!
Stay well and stay safe!
Dr. Reizer
The Truth Told Through Comedic Fiction!
A Feature Film
Curing Cancer Was A Mistake!
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