The Haunting of Stephen Colbert 1/?
Title: The Haunting of Stephen Colbert
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Stephen Colbert, Jon Stewart, original characters, a ghost
Warnings: Nothing too grim is in this story, no yet, but don't read if you don't like scary stories.
Summary: Stephen Colbert's world turns upside down when a ghost starts haunting him, then mysteriously goes away. Life goes back to normal, except Stephen's acting oddly and his staff starts to suffer because of it. Jon Stewart decides to take responsibility into his own hands and tries to get Stephen back to normal, but getting rid of a ghost is easier said than done.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Stephen Colbert adjusted his suit as he finally arrived at makeup. He smiled at the makeup artist as she did his make up. He shooed her away when she was done though, claiming that he needed some time to get into character for the show tonight.
He leaned back on his chair, relaxing as he closed his eyes to concentrate. He was beginning to become “Stephen” when suddenly the temperature dropped twenty degrees. He thought nothing of it, but when he felt goosebumps appear on his arms through his suit he knew he had to do something.
He opened his eyes, popped his head out of the dressing room, yelled, “Can someone turn off the AC in here?”, and hoped that someone took care of it. When he went back inside the room though, it was colder than before. In fact it was so cold that he could see his breath in front of his face and condensation clouded the huge mirror that took up one side of the small room.
Stephen debated over getting into character from somewhere that was considerably warmer, but he knew that the dressing room was the quietest place in the studio at the moment and therefore the best place to focus. He decided that he would make it as quick as possible so he’d have a chance to warm up before the show.
He settled back into his chair and was about to close his eyes again when he spotted a dripping line of red on the mirror. When he looked closer, he saw that the line was getting wider and longer as seconds pass. At first glance it looked like red paint but it seemed way too thick to be paint, it was more like...blood?
Stephen shook his head. It couldn’t be blood, could it? How could it be blood dripping down the mirror, of all things? Stephen didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural and he won’t start now. He decided it was a joke, a bit of a weird one at that, but it is to be expected when you work on a comedy show. He’ll wait it out and laugh with the rest of the writers about it over coffee tomorrow morning.
Suddenly the line stopped dripping down. Stephen sighed in relief, he was beginning to get a little concerned. The show wasn’t over though. Another line of dark red appeared, going horizontal instead of vertical like the first line. Stephen watched as the line magically streak across a small part of the mirror intersecting with the first line where it started and continued across for a while before stopping, making a T on one side of mirror.
Before Stephen could dismiss it as another part of the joke, a line parallel to the second appeared and intersected the end of the first line before ending, which all now appeared as an I on the mirror.
Stephen blinked furiously, trying to see if this was a dream. It seemed less and less like it was an elaborate joke, but Stephen held on to the theory because it was better than the one that seemed more and more like the truth: A ghost or something like it was communicating with him. He refused to believe in the supernatural, and he’ll hang on to the joke theory until something more logical comes along. And saying it was supernatural is certainly not the most logical theory out there.
He absentmindedly swatted away the clouds of white his breath made in front of his face as he stared intently as a curved line made an apostrophe beside the I. Letter by letter Stephen watched transfixed as a single sentence gradually developed across the mirror in capital letters: I’M COMING FOR YOU.
Stephen felt the first tendrils of fear root themselves inside his heart. It was beginning to get really creepy staying in this room and despite his earlier misjudgments it seemed like the supernatural theory is holding water. If that theory is true that means there might possibly be a ghost haunting him, and Stephen couldn’t will himself to believe that. This all had to be a joke.
To quell his fears, he stood up, reached a hesitant hand forward and swiped a bit of the dark red substance that created the lines on the mirror onto a finger. He brought the finger to his lips, tasting what he hoped was red paint or something similar on his tongue. It wasn’t; he tasted the iron and knew it was blood.
He jerked back, panicking as his fears were confirmed. A ghost was probably haunting him. Despite the overwhelming facts in its favor, Stephen couldn’t bring himself to believe in ghosts. So he fell back to his previous theory, despite how many holes it has.
“This is all a joke. This is not real.” Stephen repeated this mantra as he stepped back until the wall prevented him to do so. Even as he spoke he knew his protests were weak. This was happening whether he believed it or not. He still couldn’t believe it though.
Suddenly a dark voice came from thin air but seemed to be whispering into his working ear. “So you still don’t believe, eh? Let’s see what I can do about that...” The voice, which was low and raspy, cast a shadow of fear into his heart. He didn’t have time to delve into that further because the mirror chose that moment to start to crack. The cracks quickly created tiny chasms within the mirror and Stephen barely had a few seconds to take cover before the mirror, fully cracked, shatters. Tiny chips spilled across the floor as Stephen screamed in utter terror.
At that moment Stephen knew that there was indeed a ghost haunting him, and it had just talked to him. He didn’t have time to have a panic attack because the door burst open, and several interns came into the room.
“Stephen, are you alright? We heard you scream and came here right away,” a intern said. They certainly looked like they came right away, they were panting and sweating as if they ran a marathon before coming here.
He glanced at the mirror, debating whether or not to tell them about his haunting. To his surprise there was no evidence of his encounter with the ghost. The shards of glass that were across the floor were instead back in their rightful places as part of the not shattered and definitely not blood streaked mirror on the wall.
Stephen stared at the mirror in shock for a few seconds and it took an intern snapping his fingers in Stephen’s face to revive him. “Stephen. Stephen. Stephen!”
“Wha? Hm?” Stephen muttered distractedly, trying to calm any leftover fears he had. He was going to host a comedy show in less than a half hour after all. He can’t be scared out of his mind while doing a joke.
“Are you okay?” another intern asked.
“Sure, yeah,” Stephen answered a bit untruthfully. He stood up and stumbled a little, and an intern caught him as he fell. The interns all looked at Stephen in concern as he walked out of the room.
“Are you okay?” One intern asked again. “You looked a little pale.”
Stephen smiled, trying to ease their concerns. “I’ll be alright,” he promised. “I’ll just get into character elsewhere.”
With that Stephen walked away, in a rush to get as far away from the dressing room as possible. He’ll deal with whatever happen over there later, right now he has a show to do.
***888***888***
The show was going great tonight. The laughs and chuckles he got from the audience helped him forget about what happened in the dressing room. He was beginning to believe that whatever he saw was just a crazy daydream he had. There is some evidence to support that, like the fact that there was no sign that anything he saw in the room actually happened.
He didn’t let these thoughts distract him from hosting the Colbert Report though, he only let his thoughts wander in the breaks. By the second break he decided that he probably did daydream the whole ordeal. That’s when the temperature of the room dropped twenty degrees.
“Oh no,” Stephen whispered, knowing bad things were going to happen. He knew that the stage lights overhead are supposed to make him sweat, not make him feel that his heart is made of ice.
As the makeup artist attended to him Stephen decided to talk about the sudden cold. “Do you think it’s cold in here?” he asked.
She looked at him like he was insane. “Of course I don’t. It’s always a bit stuffy in here, remember?” When Stephen didn’t respond, she asked hesitantly, “Stephen, are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?” She tried to reach out a hand to touch his forehead but Stephen swatted it away.
Stephen shook his head and pushed her slightly away. “I’m fine, not sick at all. Just forget I even asked that, alright?” he asked, and she nodded before scurrying away.
Stephen started to shuffle some papers across the desk when the room got even colder, and Stephen was starting to develop a slight shiver when he noticed that no one else was affected by the change in temperature like he was. Going by what the makeup artist said, it seemed like he was the only one who felt the cold. He wondered idly if he was daydreaming again but was interrupted by the director signalling they had ten seconds before they start filming again.
Stephen settled into character, and launched into a comedic rant about the news of the day as usual. Throughout the piece though, there was a small tendril of fear in his heart. He didn’t understand where it came from, but he knew it was related to the cold surrounding him. The sense of fear grew and grew until Stephen paused mid-sentence, gripped into a sudden bout of paralyzing fear. The crew looked at him, wondering if something is wrong with him when it happened.
For one second Stephen felt a flash of anger; not his, but a higher, more powerful being’s; engulf him before the feeling disappeared. In that very same second a spotlight from the ceiling fell, impacting the ground between Stephen’s desk and the interview table.
Everyone paused for a moment, shocked, before going into action. The crew got started on taking the light away from the stage, security dealt with the audience, and the director told the cameraman to stop filming and began working out whether or not they’ll finish filming the show.
Stephen, however, was the only one who wasn’t moving. He stared dead ahead at some random seat in the crowd. He was in shock; the fear and the anger that he had felt appearing all of the sudden scared him to death. There was no doubt something severely wrong was happening around here.
Enough of his fear had vanished that he looked down at his desk’s glass counter-top which looked fogged over. He jerked back a bit as a sentence suddenly appeared on the counter-top: THIS IS NOT A JOKE.
After seeing what he’s seen in the last hour Stephen knew the sentence on the glass told the truth. He was being haunted, by a violent ghost from what he’s seen. When the director told him that the show will go on as planned, Stephen should have been elated, but he was scared.
If the ghost, or whatever it is, can wreck this amount of havoc around this studio just to prove a point, what would it do when he’s truly angry? Stephen didn’t want to find out, but from the way things are going he knew he would soon.
TO BE CONTINUED
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Stephen Colbert, Jon Stewart, original characters, a ghost
Warnings: Nothing too grim is in this story, no yet, but don't read if you don't like scary stories.
Summary: Stephen Colbert's world turns upside down when a ghost starts haunting him, then mysteriously goes away. Life goes back to normal, except Stephen's acting oddly and his staff starts to suffer because of it. Jon Stewart decides to take responsibility into his own hands and tries to get Stephen back to normal, but getting rid of a ghost is easier said than done.
Disclaimer: All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.
Stephen Colbert adjusted his suit as he finally arrived at makeup. He smiled at the makeup artist as she did his make up. He shooed her away when she was done though, claiming that he needed some time to get into character for the show tonight.
He leaned back on his chair, relaxing as he closed his eyes to concentrate. He was beginning to become “Stephen” when suddenly the temperature dropped twenty degrees. He thought nothing of it, but when he felt goosebumps appear on his arms through his suit he knew he had to do something.
He opened his eyes, popped his head out of the dressing room, yelled, “Can someone turn off the AC in here?”, and hoped that someone took care of it. When he went back inside the room though, it was colder than before. In fact it was so cold that he could see his breath in front of his face and condensation clouded the huge mirror that took up one side of the small room.
Stephen debated over getting into character from somewhere that was considerably warmer, but he knew that the dressing room was the quietest place in the studio at the moment and therefore the best place to focus. He decided that he would make it as quick as possible so he’d have a chance to warm up before the show.
He settled back into his chair and was about to close his eyes again when he spotted a dripping line of red on the mirror. When he looked closer, he saw that the line was getting wider and longer as seconds pass. At first glance it looked like red paint but it seemed way too thick to be paint, it was more like...blood?
Stephen shook his head. It couldn’t be blood, could it? How could it be blood dripping down the mirror, of all things? Stephen didn’t believe in ghosts or the supernatural and he won’t start now. He decided it was a joke, a bit of a weird one at that, but it is to be expected when you work on a comedy show. He’ll wait it out and laugh with the rest of the writers about it over coffee tomorrow morning.
Suddenly the line stopped dripping down. Stephen sighed in relief, he was beginning to get a little concerned. The show wasn’t over though. Another line of dark red appeared, going horizontal instead of vertical like the first line. Stephen watched as the line magically streak across a small part of the mirror intersecting with the first line where it started and continued across for a while before stopping, making a T on one side of mirror.
Before Stephen could dismiss it as another part of the joke, a line parallel to the second appeared and intersected the end of the first line before ending, which all now appeared as an I on the mirror.
Stephen blinked furiously, trying to see if this was a dream. It seemed less and less like it was an elaborate joke, but Stephen held on to the theory because it was better than the one that seemed more and more like the truth: A ghost or something like it was communicating with him. He refused to believe in the supernatural, and he’ll hang on to the joke theory until something more logical comes along. And saying it was supernatural is certainly not the most logical theory out there.
He absentmindedly swatted away the clouds of white his breath made in front of his face as he stared intently as a curved line made an apostrophe beside the I. Letter by letter Stephen watched transfixed as a single sentence gradually developed across the mirror in capital letters: I’M COMING FOR YOU.
Stephen felt the first tendrils of fear root themselves inside his heart. It was beginning to get really creepy staying in this room and despite his earlier misjudgments it seemed like the supernatural theory is holding water. If that theory is true that means there might possibly be a ghost haunting him, and Stephen couldn’t will himself to believe that. This all had to be a joke.
To quell his fears, he stood up, reached a hesitant hand forward and swiped a bit of the dark red substance that created the lines on the mirror onto a finger. He brought the finger to his lips, tasting what he hoped was red paint or something similar on his tongue. It wasn’t; he tasted the iron and knew it was blood.
He jerked back, panicking as his fears were confirmed. A ghost was probably haunting him. Despite the overwhelming facts in its favor, Stephen couldn’t bring himself to believe in ghosts. So he fell back to his previous theory, despite how many holes it has.
“This is all a joke. This is not real.” Stephen repeated this mantra as he stepped back until the wall prevented him to do so. Even as he spoke he knew his protests were weak. This was happening whether he believed it or not. He still couldn’t believe it though.
Suddenly a dark voice came from thin air but seemed to be whispering into his working ear. “So you still don’t believe, eh? Let’s see what I can do about that...” The voice, which was low and raspy, cast a shadow of fear into his heart. He didn’t have time to delve into that further because the mirror chose that moment to start to crack. The cracks quickly created tiny chasms within the mirror and Stephen barely had a few seconds to take cover before the mirror, fully cracked, shatters. Tiny chips spilled across the floor as Stephen screamed in utter terror.
At that moment Stephen knew that there was indeed a ghost haunting him, and it had just talked to him. He didn’t have time to have a panic attack because the door burst open, and several interns came into the room.
“Stephen, are you alright? We heard you scream and came here right away,” a intern said. They certainly looked like they came right away, they were panting and sweating as if they ran a marathon before coming here.
He glanced at the mirror, debating whether or not to tell them about his haunting. To his surprise there was no evidence of his encounter with the ghost. The shards of glass that were across the floor were instead back in their rightful places as part of the not shattered and definitely not blood streaked mirror on the wall.
Stephen stared at the mirror in shock for a few seconds and it took an intern snapping his fingers in Stephen’s face to revive him. “Stephen. Stephen. Stephen!”
“Wha? Hm?” Stephen muttered distractedly, trying to calm any leftover fears he had. He was going to host a comedy show in less than a half hour after all. He can’t be scared out of his mind while doing a joke.
“Are you okay?” another intern asked.
“Sure, yeah,” Stephen answered a bit untruthfully. He stood up and stumbled a little, and an intern caught him as he fell. The interns all looked at Stephen in concern as he walked out of the room.
“Are you okay?” One intern asked again. “You looked a little pale.”
Stephen smiled, trying to ease their concerns. “I’ll be alright,” he promised. “I’ll just get into character elsewhere.”
With that Stephen walked away, in a rush to get as far away from the dressing room as possible. He’ll deal with whatever happen over there later, right now he has a show to do.
***888***888***
The show was going great tonight. The laughs and chuckles he got from the audience helped him forget about what happened in the dressing room. He was beginning to believe that whatever he saw was just a crazy daydream he had. There is some evidence to support that, like the fact that there was no sign that anything he saw in the room actually happened.
He didn’t let these thoughts distract him from hosting the Colbert Report though, he only let his thoughts wander in the breaks. By the second break he decided that he probably did daydream the whole ordeal. That’s when the temperature of the room dropped twenty degrees.
“Oh no,” Stephen whispered, knowing bad things were going to happen. He knew that the stage lights overhead are supposed to make him sweat, not make him feel that his heart is made of ice.
As the makeup artist attended to him Stephen decided to talk about the sudden cold. “Do you think it’s cold in here?” he asked.
She looked at him like he was insane. “Of course I don’t. It’s always a bit stuffy in here, remember?” When Stephen didn’t respond, she asked hesitantly, “Stephen, are you okay? You’re not sick, are you?” She tried to reach out a hand to touch his forehead but Stephen swatted it away.
Stephen shook his head and pushed her slightly away. “I’m fine, not sick at all. Just forget I even asked that, alright?” he asked, and she nodded before scurrying away.
Stephen started to shuffle some papers across the desk when the room got even colder, and Stephen was starting to develop a slight shiver when he noticed that no one else was affected by the change in temperature like he was. Going by what the makeup artist said, it seemed like he was the only one who felt the cold. He wondered idly if he was daydreaming again but was interrupted by the director signalling they had ten seconds before they start filming again.
Stephen settled into character, and launched into a comedic rant about the news of the day as usual. Throughout the piece though, there was a small tendril of fear in his heart. He didn’t understand where it came from, but he knew it was related to the cold surrounding him. The sense of fear grew and grew until Stephen paused mid-sentence, gripped into a sudden bout of paralyzing fear. The crew looked at him, wondering if something is wrong with him when it happened.
For one second Stephen felt a flash of anger; not his, but a higher, more powerful being’s; engulf him before the feeling disappeared. In that very same second a spotlight from the ceiling fell, impacting the ground between Stephen’s desk and the interview table.
Everyone paused for a moment, shocked, before going into action. The crew got started on taking the light away from the stage, security dealt with the audience, and the director told the cameraman to stop filming and began working out whether or not they’ll finish filming the show.
Stephen, however, was the only one who wasn’t moving. He stared dead ahead at some random seat in the crowd. He was in shock; the fear and the anger that he had felt appearing all of the sudden scared him to death. There was no doubt something severely wrong was happening around here.
Enough of his fear had vanished that he looked down at his desk’s glass counter-top which looked fogged over. He jerked back a bit as a sentence suddenly appeared on the counter-top: THIS IS NOT A JOKE.
After seeing what he’s seen in the last hour Stephen knew the sentence on the glass told the truth. He was being haunted, by a violent ghost from what he’s seen. When the director told him that the show will go on as planned, Stephen should have been elated, but he was scared.
If the ghost, or whatever it is, can wreck this amount of havoc around this studio just to prove a point, what would it do when he’s truly angry? Stephen didn’t want to find out, but from the way things are going he knew he would soon.
TO BE CONTINUED