Rise To Stardom - Chapter 122

Chapter 122: That Sort Of A Man
After sorting out the details regarding the trailer at the marketing meeting yesterday, the crew was back on set again today to film the next few scenes for the second episode.

Having already taken the shot of the scenes just immediately after the shrill scream from the hallways, one where The Curator, along with Jasmine had bolted out of the office to find the cause, they had stumbled across a strange phenomenon.

Strange for Kiera at least…

Weirdly enough, everyone else in the school seemed to have not noticed or even heard the scream despite how loud it was, especially since it was even getting continuous.

Simply put, all of them had been going about their mundane activities without even batting an eye to the frankly disturbing and terrifying screams.

Yet, for The Curator, there was an unfazed gaze in his eyes as he ran towards the source of the scream whilst telling Kiera that he would explain the cause for it later.

However, just before he had run out of his office, he had retrieved something necessary from his drawer.

As for Kiera, the panic in her eyes was evident as she perfectly knew, whom exactly that voice belonged to.

Her closest friend, Beatrice.

Tracing the source of scream, not minding as everyone around them watched in confusion as they ran through the hallways, both soon arrived at the auditorium.

The same auditorium where Beatrice had previously told Jasmine that there had been howlings at night.

But even then, Kiera couldn’t see anything wrong with the auditorium as some students who sparsely littered the chairs, gazed at them in mild interest, especially since Jasmine was panting heavily.

Not that The Curator minded. He simply slipped on his Construct Gloves which he had retrieved from his drawer without a moment wasted.

Basically his handy little gadget, one that was capable of reconstructing and creating certain things provided it was within a certain time limit, the gloves were also capable of deconstructing stuff.

And that, exactly was why, casually extending his hands towards the air before him, reality shattered like a glass before The Curator to reveal a massive arena, one where a certain alien race, was chanting loudly as a certain ‘fight’, was holding in the middle of said arena.

A pocket dimension…

Linked to another planet.

That’s what the space before them was.

As a result, Kiera watched in mild shock as every other student in the auditorium, simply turned their gaze away, almost as if they didn’t even see what was happening.

Simply put, whatever it was that this plane was, it had no effect on the real world.

This was because, both the auditorium and the arena were existing in the same space without impeding on the other.

Or at least, that’s how it should’ve worked…

That, exactly, was were the 5th scene had been cut at.

However, the next day after, that scene continued, although they were yet to film it at the moment.

That said, it wasn’t the first time a pocket dimension had been used in the series but, it had been quite a long while since they had used it like this.

The last time they had employed its usage in such format, was back in the era of the 5th Curator’s season.

In fact, it was even used in one of the major introductory scenes of the 5th reiteration of The Curator.

But now, what he had sorted out back then to prevent the Balrogs, from ever doing again, seemed to have resurfaced.

Being a humanoid alien race with small protruding horns all over their bodies, along with hardened chitinous exteriors, they had a tendency to enslave other races for their own entertainment if left unchecked.

It was almost an intrinsic habit for them, one that could be attributed to their brain physiology, one in which their hypothalamus only allowed for a high level of extreme scenarios to get them excited.

Now under a new, fearless ruler, though, they seemed to have resumed their nasty habit of randomly kidnapping humans and other aliens again for their own fun.

Watching as Beatrice screamed in fear as she ran from a slowly-moving, Giant Balrog, along with even the ‘admitted’ Professor Sanders, and a few other mix of humans and weaker alien races whom had been kidnapped and were also running from their respective Giant Balrogs, the situation seemed very dire.

Added to that, the arena’s flooring itself was made of a solid, pale-blue, photon construct, which, despite being hard enough, could still be broken with enough force.

To top it all off, almost as if to relish in their pointless struggle, the ground beneath the photon flooring, was a literal, raging pit of white flames.

Having seen all these, Jasmine had gasped and covered her mouth in terrified fear.

Still, regardless of the iteration, The Curator remained The Curator so, obviously, he should’ve been pissed by the current scenario.

Yet, as of the moment, his current iteration, wasn’t at all annoyed as he descended the long, long row of staircases, scrutinizing the multiple aliens who had no idea whom he was just yet with a slow clap.

That was the scene Kyle at the moment, had to film with Tiana as they were back to DreamLand Inc’s. underground hall for the heavy CGI and VFX scenes.

At the moment though, there were two props which had been built from the ground up.

One was the auditorium itself, while the other was for another scene later.

These were both props that the prop team had spent roughly a week and a few days, building.

All of the extras though, Beatrice and Professor Sanders included, were already in the middle of said arena, prepping themselves for the scene as a bunch of tall, bulky men, all wearing green outfits and would be acting as the giant Balrogs, conversed with some of the extras, some of who were also dressed in green clothes.

Added to that, was another bulky guy, also dressed in green as he sat at the top of the arena’s stage with an authoritative demeanor, an advanced-looking, mechanical spear in his hands.

He currently seemed to be having the time of his life even.

Jasmine other hand, having exited the dressing room, quickly moved towards Kyle whom was standing at the higher staircases of the prop arena, ready for the scene to begin.

“Filming begins in five. Get the necessary checks done.” Tiana audibly yet calmly ordered the moment Jasmine moved towards Kyle.

Swiftly, the crew comported themselves to their respective posts, awaiting the order to start from the Director.

Looking around, ensuring that everything was as it should be, Tiana then raised her hand up as a way to signal to the extras in the middle of the arena, bringing it down in one swift motion as she coolly said;

“Start.”

{The Curator – Tenth Season | 8th April 2020 | Act 2 | Scene 6 | Take 1}

A slow, rhythmic clap echoed across the expanse of the arena, gradually silencing the noisy atmosphere.

The source, The Curator who was descending downwards with light steps, a confused and panic-stricken Jasmine trailing closely behind him.

Yet, the lady had swiftly, retrieved her Taser from her bag, gripping it firmly with a hint of determination in her fearful gaze.

Although she was certain it probably wouldn’t help a dime, she at least, needed to protect herself the best she could.

The Curator on the other hand, realizing that he had gotten everyone’s attention, audibly spoke;

“I request for a duel.”

No sooner had he said that, the giant Balrogs in the arena, along with the other aliens sitting around the arena, watched in shock as he pointed his gloved finger in a certain direction.

The top of the arena, exactly where their new ruler, sat like the King he was.

As for the kidnapped humans and weaker aliens, they could only watch in fear at the entire scenario, a tiny piece of them, grateful for the distraction as they huddled up in various corners of the arena.

Despite having a humanoid visage, there was still, a noticeable frown on the regal alien’s features, merlot-red glows in deep sockets of his triple, triangular-shaped eyes, further bolstered by his ghoul-like nose and mandible protruding teeth.

Gazing at The Curator with a condescending gaze, he soon spoke, his voice eerily uncomfortable and raspy;

“You, are not him?”

“See Kiera! Conjecture! That was my lecture today! He believes I’m not someone I once was without sufficient evidence!” he turned around to face the lady, eyes gleaming in excitement like a kid.

For Kiera though, the expression on her face, said it all.

She was currently wondering, if the man before her was even sane for him to be remembering something of sort in such a tense moment.

“Tear them apart.” the Monarch ordered the people in the arena with a dismissive expression.

Yet, as all of them got up from their chairs, ready to lunge at the two individuals without a second wasted, they heard the weirdo, speak as he twirled to face their King.

“I’m guessing you overthrew him?” The Curator curiously asked, his expression amused as he continued with a light, audible chuckle;

“You couldn’t live with your own failure, could you, Kralak?”

“And now its led you, the long way around, back to me…” he concluded with a light smile as he stared at the Balrog ruler, dead in the eye from afar.

During the 5th Curator’s reiteration, the Balrogs had tried to invade earth, one that eventually resulted in a duel between he and the past, Balrog Monarch.

As at then though, before actually defeating their King in said duel, said King had sent Kralak, his best warrior, to duel with The Curator, only for him to lose miserably against him.

That miserable loss for him, ended up fueling so much hatred for The Curator, that he had been looking for a way to get his revenge back for the past 500 years.

Now that he had, no sooner than a few years back, after he had bested his King in a duel and killed him, a more experienced and powerful Kralak, was back to get his revenge.

And what better way to draw The Curator to him than to enslave the human race in their silly little games.

Yet, after realizing that the man before him, was indeed whom had been waiting for, the new Balrog King, instead of being affected by his obvious words of mockery, slowly stood up in response;

“I accept, your duel.”

“Brilliant!” The Curator clapped as he continued;

“The conditions are as follows!”

“If you win, I’ll willingly leave you all to your elements. Do as you please!” he gestured his arms out wide with an exaggerated gesture, one that caused some of the older Balrog races to finally begin to get wary.

Those exact words, reminded them of a certain, scary individual whom had shown them mercy when he could’ve wiped them out for good.

“But if I win, I never want to see you, or your pocket dimension again, anywhere near the blue star.” he concluded with a smile.

“I accept, your terms.” The Balrog Monarch responded once again.

Honestly, at the moment, Kralak couldn’t care any less.

All he wanted, was revenge.

Instantly, as if in response, the Balrog King snapped his fingers.

The humans whom were huddled up in various corners of the arena, soon found themselves, against their own will, being carried by the giant Balrogs whom had been previously chasing them.

Only this time, they weren’t keen on killing them as they grabbed them all and held them in place, all while also leaving the arena for the two individuals whom were about to start their duel.

As for The Curator, he swiftly turned around to Kiera and said, his expression assuring;

“Don’t panic. This will all be over in a minute.”

No sooner had he said that, without even waiting for her response, he materialized a protective, translucent, photon dome around her with his Construct Gloves, a one-minute timer, reading on it.

That was how long his gloves could maintain the dome.

Still, for that one minute, it would at least shield her from any rapscallion who felt he could take the opportunity to use her as a hostage.

Walking onto the photon flooring of the arena, standing from across Kralak who had a genuinely condescending smirk on his features, the arena was instantly filled up with tension.

Yet, in comparison to the alien who towered above him by a few feet from afar, The Curator maintained a light smile on his features.

Waiting for the order to start, Kralak, launched himself towards The Curator the moment the order was given with a fast sprint, his back arched backwards to descend his spear and cleave downwards.

Yet, all he heard from The Curator who slowly bent down, were a few words;

“I gave you a chance once, Kralak.”

Placing his Construct Gloves on the photon flooring, the distance between he and his enemy, rapidly closing up;

“I don’t give, second chances.”

Instantly, the photon flooring before The Curator, rapidly crumbled and disintegrated, leaving a dumbstruck, horrified Kralak to watch himself, unable to do anything as he fell to an excruciating death.

“You didn’t fight, with honor!” he bellowed out in pained, festering hatred and disappointment.

“Remember your conjecture? It wasn’t exactly wrong…” The Curator on the other hand, watched in complete apathy, a jaded, uninterested gaze in his eyes as Kralak, slowly fell to his doom;

“I’m so old now…”

“That man you fought with years back…”

“He’s not dead…”

“He’s just, not that sort of man anymore…”

Slowly rising up, turning around as Kralak burnt to a crisp, his ghastly, harrowing, agonizing scream filling up every corner of the arena, The Curator walked off the stage as he finished his monologue with an unfazed expression;

“A man, who had a lot of honor and, a lot of mercy.”

The time for their fight, lasted exactly, one minute.

“Cut, Print. Check The Gate.”

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