Plaza Theatre
Opp Veer Kotwal Udyan, N.C. Kelkar Rd, Dadar West, Dadar, Mumbai, Maharashtra, India
The historic Plaza Theatre had sold out in record time last week after advertisements of the latest cinematic opportunity showered the eager Indian masses.
The flashy, fluorescent movie posters, stretched to grand scales, adorned the two large billboards above the bustling intersection in the theatre's horizon.
THE ONE NIGHT ONLY, LIMITED VIEWING MOVIE PREMIER OF SCAVENGERS 2: STARRING HOLLYWOOD SUPERSTAR SAFFRON HANSON & INDIA'S OWN, THE VICTOR OF BOLLYWOOD, VEEJAY!
Perhaps more overwhelming than the billboard's content was the supersession of SOLD OUT across the chest of the film's stars.
880 eager viewers flood the sidewalk in front of the theatre, swarming the wrought iron gates, their general admission tickets in tow.
The gates open precisely 20 minutes before showtime as the mass of humanity cascades swiftly past ticket collectors and bag searchers, planting themselves in their desired locations within the theatre, scoffing at those who beat them to the most desirable seats.
As the theatre's floor fills and the lights dim, the aged walls rattle and the roofs' trusses hum with the opening toll of the film's orchestral intro.
The scene opens with Hollywood's newly crowned King and Queen couple, Veejay and Saffron, liplocked in the heat of passion, their hands caressing each other's figures as their mouths unite in a fit of emotion.
Silence befalls the audience, the calming of eagerness before the presumed eruption of elation as the opening credits roll. The orchestra roars, filling the theatre with anticipation as the background to the scene creeps slower into darkness, brightly illuminating the two centralized figures, lost in the bliss of romanticism.
As consistently as the backdrop fades, a new figure appears, coming forth out of the darkness. Its crimson tone gains contrast and focus, becoming brighter red as it nears the interlocked couple.
As the music climaxes, it also sours. Note after note, off key, out of tune, lacking any distinguishable rhythm.
The great serpent envelopes their figures, displacing their passion with fury, encompassing them in its brazen scales. Cries come from within the stranglehold, but they are quickly snuffed as it increases the strength of its grasp. Beauty turned repugnant, grace crudely diminished to a conglomeration of caterwauling.
The crowd's reaction is predictably unfavorable. Mothers scramble to shield their children's eyes and ears, elders struggle to make sense of the commotion.
The screen before the crowd fades into a crimson glow before slowly regressing to black as the soothing voice of a child comes to the forefront of the ongoing racket.
Child: Do not shield your fear, for He has come to redeem us all.
As the child articulates his final words, his speech is replaced by screams. Piercing through the sound system, the screams replace the shrill discourse of the maligned orchestra, filling the theatre with an uneasy tension.
A thin white mist rises from the base of the theatre's daunting screen, brushing against the crimson backdrop, creating a distorted fog of red and white. As the fog subsides, the screen flickers and returns to black. From deep within the nothingness, words appear, magnifying at a lethargic pace.
THE SEVENTH BOOK OF SLAUGHTER
Many from the crowd vacate their seats, seeking exile from the disturbing scene, but the theatre's lone exit door, seemingly latched from the outside, provides no solace.
7 Slaughter: 1:1-2
The pride of hearts
The pride of your heart has deceived you, you who live in the clefts of the rocks and make your home on the heights, you who say to yourself, who can bring me down to the ground?
His voice fills the theatre, although his figure remains unseen.
Slaughter: The man you call hero has abandoned his home, fleeing for a new land, seeking to enhance the image he forged from his native soils. His pride has blinded his consciousness. He has become consumed with lust for earthly possessions and elaborate mansions within which he houses them. His fighting spirit has been displaced by illusions of stardom and wealth. And before your very eyes, His redemption shall manifest itself.
GoldRush approaches and the hero disregards the war. He gallivants with his mistress of vanity and his lapdog confidant, assuming victory is earned by magazine spreads and hefty bankrolls. Yet, while he approaches the battlefield with an army of hired hands, Death approaches battle with a remorseless mission. Veejay is but another stepping stone to Ragnarok, the decimation of this world, and its rebirth anew, forged by the swollen hand of The Redeemer.
His words ring heavily amidst the perturbed crowd as color returns to the deadened space at his back, slowly fading forth.
7 Slaughter 4:1-2
The second death
He who overcomes will inherit these things, and I will be his God. But for the cowardly and unbelieving and abominable and idolaters and those whom seek wealth and act in lust, their part will be in the lake that burns with fire and brimstone, which is the second death.
Slaughter: The lake which burns with the tormented souls of the afflicted has brought forth a new master. I am the Great Deceiver. I am your God. My throne is not housed in earthly palaces nor otherworldly kingdoms, My throne lies between three ropes, strung 20 by 20, and from upon My throne, Death is the only mortal.
The second death occurs within the swarming lake of fire, yet the first occurs within the Tomb of the Mutilated, when your hero is forced to submit in the center of the ring, begging for his life, only to be awarded the opportunity of consecutive deaths, one that shall be, and one that is yet to come.
The background fades again as the crimson serpent reappears. Slithering onward, secreting a ruby trail of fluid in his wake. Words spew forth from the serpents' gaping mouth, lashing out fiercely before coming to rest in the foreground.
7 Slaughter 6: 1
The venom of asps
All have turned aside, together they have become useless. His throat is an open grave, His tongue begets deceit, the venom of asps adorns His lips.
The thickness of the crimson letters seem to burn themselves upon the canvas of the screen as the theatre quakes with a sudden shudder of force.
Debris begins to shower the crowd from overhead, as the theatre's exit suddenly swings open. The crowds rush toward the door, vacating personal belongings at the scene of terror. The noise is deafening, rattling the structure from below, rising in intensity with each passing moment.
As the final patrons vacate the theatre, a lone figure remains amidst the chaos. The Great Deceiver stands before the screen, his arms elongated on either side of his body, as "the venom of asps" glows brightly in the background.
Slaughter: Veejay, our paths have crossed on numerous occassions. We have enjoyed success working in unison, but your search for adulation ends here. The time has come in which the powerless rise. The newly crowned King of Hollywood shall be usurped from his elaborate throne and upon his fallen crest shall rest the heavy knee of Death. And upon his sword shall slither the great serpent, sparing just enough venom for his Queen. And when the Queen falls upon the marble floors, the Kingdom will be relegated to its perpetual death.
As The Angel of Death drops to one knee, the theatre shudders, now rocking under the unseen forces that rattle its foundation.
His eyes are fierce as He extends one arm in front of His bowed torso, seemingly setting the collapse into motion.
Amidst the crumbling walls and shattering glass, the crimson glow grows in intensity.
As the commotion settles, dissipating dust falls into place around the perimeter. The crumbled theatre reduced to rubble as onlookers gasp and shout amongst themselves.
The crimson glow begins to rise as, from within the rubble, ascends the pentagram. The Great Deceiver kneels in the center of the shape, his posture unchanged from before the collapse.
Flames erupt suddenly, encircling the pentagram as it continues to ascend.
He rises to His feet and gazes down upon the crowd of onlookers.
Slaughter:I have seen inside your heads, I am aware of your vanity. Show Me your hearts, so that they may be redeemed under My hands.
Ragnarok is closing in, death for honor, death for glory, death at your hero's side.
Death, in fire.
The circling flames rage as a cold wind howls swiftly across the cityscape, blinding the eyes of the onlookers. As the scene refocuses, The Great Deceiver has vanished, leaving only a burning pentagram, now rotated to a full frontal view, burning brightly against the sullen evening sky.
