You come about and find yourself in a strange, decrepit theatre, one that seems to call itself Teatro San Cassiano. The air is stagnant and dusty. It leaves a residue of white powedery stone on your skin. Your breathing is slightly laborious due to the cake crumbs coating the inside of your lungs. In front of you lies a tomb, where a large plaque stands in the back, watching over you, like some folklorish mare.
Felix - The dead cat of the theatre. The plaque does not detail how he got this pseudonym. You step further into the tomb, cobwebs graze your skin like the gentle hands of a lover. In the furthest corner of the tomb, where the sunlight's glowing eyes cannot see, there sits a large tome (a tome in a tomb, hah!) with the word "Autobiograph" scrawled onto the front cover. You pick it up and turn to the first page.
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