“There’s nothing quite like dying under the spotlight.”

That’s what they say when she’s near. A phrase neither myth nor legend, although no one knows what it implies.

Except for her.

The Shadow Dancer.

☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎ ☠︎

Aria Flint adjusted her ruby-red mask, the kind that would be worn to a royal masquerade ball, and inspected the letter carefully placed onto her dresser, sealed in wax. After opening it, she inspected the very few words inscribed in fine ink on the parchment, “It’s your turn to be the victim.” Sighing, she placed it back into the envelope and began to make her way onto the stage, completely engulfed in darkness.

The curtains opened slowly. Applause. Cheering.

Music played, slow and graceful as she started to dance, twirling round the stage with effortless grace. She tried to cover the slight frown making it’s way onto her lips.

_Something wasn’t right. It wasn’t just the letter, although it was disturbing, she could see the small mood change within the audience._

Suddenly, a hand clamped over her mouth, an arm making it’s way round her neck. Screams echoed from the audience. The figure behind her was strong, too strong. She pushed back, causing her attacker’s head to hit the back wall. The grip was firm still, and the oxygen in her lungs was running out. Bringing as much power into her leg, Aria brought her foot back, kicking the figure’s knee at an angle, causing it to give out. They fell to the ground, dragging her down with them.

As quick as she could, she unstrapped her knife from her thigh, rolled from underneath the assailant and placed a knife to their throat. Luckily, the curtains had closed, once the audience fled the theatre, but still none of her crew had come to help her. She studied the figure still knelt on top of them to prevent any movement from them. Male, middle-aged, handsome. Unlike any attacker she had seen in the past.

“Why are you here?” She grit her teeth, throwing off her mask with her free hand.

The man only smirked. “Did you not get my letter? The ropes are being reversed, Aria, time for the assassin to be assassinated.”

“How did you know who I was?” She spat, frustration filling her voice, pressing harder with her knife.

“It’s quite obvious, really,” his smile grew broader. “Everyone wears a mask, but few dare to ponder who stands behind it.”

Aria nodded, understanding his words as she calmed herself. “So will you yield, or should I kill you?”

“Oh, I’m not finished, I just stopped for a nice chit-chat.”

**_(I don’t know how to continue it, please can someone help me!”_**