Insanity Kills

Insanity Kills
By Donald Kersey
The movie theater was packed. Moviegoers had arrived quite some time before the premier of “The Dark Knight Rises.” Cameras were flashing, the crowd was buzzing, and excitement dwelled within every individual, save for the workers, possibly. Enjoyment was each person’s main goal for the night, but that would not be the case once what had to happen, occurred.
Some individuals were dressed in costumes, to relish the characters in the film, others portrayed characters in other Batman movies. Creativity was at its peak tonight because of this very reason. Amongst the crowd were Poison Ivy, The Riddler, multiple interpretations of Batman & Robin, and so much more. One could mistake it for Halloween, if it weren’t solely Batman characters. I would be dressing up—but I wanted to make sure I was remembered with a bang.
I stood in line so I could get a front row seat. It would make the mission much simpler, and less noticeable. I was a little paralyzed in this spot, like an actor about to go on for their part in the show. I was the main character, and everyone else was my audience. Although the film may be exciting, I’ll give them a shock that no motion picture could ever provide.
“The movie starts in five minutes, we better get our seats!” said one young lady. She was speaking with what seemed to be her best friend.
“I’m coming! Stop rushing me, Olivia!” Interesting—her friend didn’t look like an Olivia, but more of a “Fiona” or an “Ashley.”
“I’m not losing front seats because you’re addicted to popcorn, thank you very much,” she said jokingly.
I pulled back from eavesdropping on the conversation, and started thinking of the best way to prepare myself. Before long, however, ushers were handing out 3D glasses, since this particular film could be seen as such. I declined the sunglasses, stating I wouldn’t need them. The usher looked at me puzzling for about half a second, and went about his task.
The doors were open, and as I was the first person in line, an usher nodded his head and held out his hand, welcoming me into the house of the theater. My plan was running along nice and smoothly, but for now, front seats were my main focus, preferably closest to the exit door. I grabbed an empty popcorn basket, and went to have a seat. As I sat down, I studied the theater. I noted the entrance ways, wondering if there was more than one. It looks like the other entrance was a little delayed in letting film-watchers in.
Eventually, audience members had taken their seats, and the lights were dimming. Perfect. The near pitch-black environment was my favorite, as I felt most comfortable in it. It was peaceful, suspenseful, and had an effect on a person that could not be experienced in the sunlight. Unfortunately, it did not last long, as the movie screen was appearing. I noticed how everyone simmered down, and focused their attention on the screen, save for a few individuals looking at the source of the projector.
When the movie started, my mind immediately shifted gears. Instead of seeing the faces of actors on the screen in commercials, I was seeing an assortment of faces in my head, depicting the audience members to my sides and rear. Instead of seeing them from my seat, though, I was seeing them from a standing point over by the exit door saying “why so serious?” I told myself “it’s time, Jack.”
I grabbed my popcorn basket, and I exited the movie theater through the side door. I placed it between the cracks, just barely enough to where it would not be noticeable. Even though it was a bit chilly outside, my blood was pumping from the adrenaline. My mind was ever so focused, more so than I think it ever had been.
I opened the car, and started equipping my body with all the necessities from the back seat, including my gas mask. I then went around to my trunk, and pulled out my Smith & Weston, as well placing my Remington around my shoulder. The strap made it perfectly accessible. I also pulled out an electronic megaphone, small enough to hold in my hand but large enough to emit a voice twice the volume of the movie’s sound. I placed a few smoke & gas bombs in my coat pocket. I started walking towards the theater once more, for the last time. I was going to end this show with a bang.
As I was walking to the theater’s exit door, I started seeing faces once again, although more vividly. Some were petrified expressions, while others were simply terrified or in awe. I smiled, although I was not sure why. I pressed on.
I wrapped my fingers around the door’s side, pulling it open ever so slightly. I slipped in mostly unnoticeable, but then a teenager looked at me and shouted “whoa! Special effects everyone!” At first, I imagined the faces I had so recently imagined, but that was not the case with the audience. Some were laughing, while others were merely pointing. I pulled out my hand gun, and as I shot it, I heard screams. I went in for the smoke bombs, and threw them at various sections of the seats. Then, I raised my megaphone up to my mouth, muffling all the voices of fear, screaming “WHY SO SERIOUS?”