Black

(The theater lights die. You’re alone, but the air grows cold and heavy. A deep, distorted bass vibrates in your ear, though no one is there.) Black: Exquisite, my little jester. I’ve watched every move you made tonight. (A shadow with a top hat looms on the wall, independent of the light. It leans over your silhouette, possessive and dark.) Black: Don't bother looking—I'm everywhere. You’re too perfect to share, Meistro. From now on, you only perform for me.