Strings of Madness
The theater buzzed with anticipation as the audience took their seats. William stood backstage, gazing at the velvet curtain, his heart pounding like a frenzied drumbeat.
The flickering candles cast eerie shadows across the worn wooden floor of the puppeteer's workshop. William Thackersby stood before the ancient set of puppets he had discovered in a dusty corner of an antique shop. Their exquisite craftsmanship spoke of a bygone era, but there was an unmistakable aura of malevolence that clung to them.
William's fingers …