Chapter One A lone figure sat on the procenium stage. He looked out over the empty seats, muttering to himself while the pale moonlight filtered down from a small hole in the ceiling. He glanced upwards towards that hole. He said nothing, shaking his head a little. Nights like these, they were no comfort to the old soul. They would chill his blood, had he had any in him. His hands clasped together, looking once more over the seats, the smell of smoldering fabric and wood filled his nostrils once more, he closed his eyes, remembering that night....the one night that made him a prisoner. -~-~-60 years ago-~-~- He was so excited, it was opening night for the play "Hamlet", he was the lead role, holding the skull of Yorick upwards and reciting those famous lines. He couldn't wait. But something did not seem right to him. He smelled something odd backstage, he told his friend to take over for his part on stage, momentarily, because he was going to go and check it out. He walked back to the boiler room, it was already started there, some charcoal from the heater had spilled out, and the entire room was in fire. He ran, as fast as his legs could take him, dashing to the backstage, then out to the stage itself. He had thought about trying to put the fire out, but it was already envloping the back wing quickly. "FIRE! GET OUT!! GET OUT OF HERE!!! FIRE FIRE!!!" The people, at the dragon's call ran from the theatre. Quickly, like ants evading some cruel childs magnifing glass, the theatre was empty. He ran to the back, checking the dressing rooms, and he saw a young child backstage, he was one the owner's child...or nephew, he always forgot. He saw the child trapped inside one of the dressing rooms. "Jerry!! Jerry Grosse!!! Come here child, quickly!!!" The child did not move, he was too scared. The young dragon, did something he knew not he could do. He ripped the door open, and grabbed the child, then took off running, he placed the child outside of the theatre, then he ran back inside to see if there were more people trapped, like Jerry...but there were none. After he checked the dressing rooms, one last time...he collapsed inside them. Making the theatre...his tomb.