"Well, only thirty-one to go."
I don't know how I got myself into this mess. All I remember is me and my buddy Josh talking over a Scotch on a Friday night about how he had rented a run-down utility building around the city center. He told me he wants to make it a nice, cozy pub, much like the one we frequent. Next thing I know I get a call the following morning where he tells me I could earn the easiest hundred-fifty bucks of my life.
"It's not going to take you long mate. Tuning a piano is easier than it sounds."
His sweet lies came just two days after my rent's due date, so well... I agreed. I was a music major in college, I've seen how they do the job before and watching a couple of YouTube videos gave me confidence that it really wouldn't be too hard. It didn't take me long to realize how freaking wrong I was.
To start, I arrived at the pub-to-be, only to be greeted by a literal inch of dust. It was covering everything besides a small path in the middle of the room, through which they dragged the piano and the bar equipment. I'm by no means a germophobe, if I was I'd be dead, but I still had to clean around my work place. Otherwise I risked lung cancer by the time I finish. That task in itself took about an hour.
Secondly, the... piano, if you could even call it that, was an old wreck. Its soft pedal fell victim long ago, there were five stings that had rusted beyond salvation and a myriad of other broken parts had me walk the half mile distance to the nearest music shop two times already. What bothered me was that I wasn't even expected to do a good job. It would still sound pretty bad by the time I was done with it, Josh was always aware of that inevitability. After all, it would only ever be used to play sappy drunk-men songs in the middle of the night.
Making matters worse, the sun had been blazing ever since early morning, making me fry in my own sauce inside the one-story glorified shed. Its old, black metal roof served much like an improvised camp stove, making the heat inside almost unbearable. It all seemed really depressing at that point, my chances of freeing myself from working on Sunday dwindling together with my patience. I really needed help.
I called Josh, demanding compensation, but all he offered was buying me beer and two hours later I was still waiting for it. I'd say I was properly pissed at that point. I decided to go out, take some fresh air, vent a bit of my frustration and accept the fact I'd be working throughout the whole weekend.
Nothing could be done about that really. I managed to fix the first fifty-seven keys and although it has eighty-eight in total, I started from the bass. That meant I still had most of the triple-string keys to go. Basically, there were ninety-three potentially broken strings ahead of me, which would entail another music shop trip and a lot of alcohol.
I was done.
As I was wallowing in self-pity, something rather peculiar happened. The heavy summer air started ringing with this... weird melody. It sounded like a broken string instrument or perhaps a music box, playing a simple, yet intriguing tune. It would go for two bars and then stop, only to clank a tone infrequently. It was as if something was missing, but it would always come back to that short part which really grabbed my attention.
“Hm, this is some sort of a minor chord with... what is this interval?” I wondered, confused since although nothing was really out of the ordinary, I couldn't really understand how it could sound so... beautiful. “It must be microtones, I just don't know what else it could be.”
Flashbacks to my student's life started going through my mind. We studied microtones, sounds that lie between two piano keys and I knew some composers have used them. I remembered a professor mentioning how Debussy was inspired by them, after hearing a foreign musician play. Nevertheless, these sounds were always so very unpopular, to the point I couldn't recall a single piece with them.
The tune kept on going in the background and I was transfixed. It was something otherworldly, even with how much of it was missing, I just couldn't fathom who would create such a piece. Drawn in by the sound, I started walking to the back of Josh's shack. When I turned the corner, I was met with a sight even more confusing than the music.
There stood a young girl with long black hair, wearing a perfectly white summer dress spanning just below her knees. Her skin was pale, almost unnaturally so for the middle of August. The wind was playing with the light fabric and her silky hair so gently, I felt dazed. I couldn't make out much more detail from the distance I was at, but I saw she was cranking an odd contraption placed atop a rustic wooden table. The inexplicably haunting melody coming from underneath her hands drew me forwards.
Next thing I remember, I was standing right in front of her, looking in her deep brown eyes. She had little make-up, besides the red lipstick she was wearing. It stood out on her white face much like blood on snow. She was undeniably beautiful, her mesmerizing smile forcing my heart to skip a beat. I felt like a teenager who had just fallen in love, sweaty and confused, ready to run for cover.
“Would you like to join me?” She asked, looking me straight in the eyes.
I should've asked myself questions, like how was she there? What was she doing in the back of the pub? Why did she decide to play that weird thing? Who brought the table? Isn't this all too good to be true? Nevertheless, I was spellbound. I think I just nodded in agreement, not realizing what I was getting myself into.
“Take a look at this.” She pointed her thin hand at the large, improvised music box in front of us. At the core of it was a copper hammer attached to a big cranking wheel she was operating by hand. It was moving along an iron rail, which had rusted to the point it got uneven, making the music have this sad timbre to it. As the plank moved it would hit these small copper nuts and silver coins attached to a long copper cable.
Looking at it I realized how it managed to produce tones that a piano wouldn't but I found it confusing. How could something so old and broken still make such grasping sounds? It should've been a screeching mess, interrupted by dysrhytmic clangor every time the hammer bumped into the rotten iron. I was perplexed, no logical explanation came to my mind as to how the instrument was working.
I stared at it hypnotized, time slipping away from me with every loop passing by. The summer sun is not a reliable time-teller, the minutes and hours flying by as it refuses to leave the sky and settle under the horizon.
“Oh, evening time is upon us.” she stopped playing “Would you care to join us for dinner?”
I was so focused on the musical contraption I somehow forgot she was there. I lifted my gaze to meet hers and I saw her umber eyes but... I... I wasn't in the backyard anymore. We were at the backseat of a luxurious-looking SUV coming into which I had no recollections of. A cold shiver ran down my spine but there was something about her. Something that reassured me that it was going to be fine. Perhaps that is the way a succubus abducts her victims to hell, but at that moment... I felt as if I could trust her with my life.
Her eyes showed no malice, her expression was strangely positive, almost childlike. She was talking to me and I noticed the way she spoke was strange, but what else about her wasn't? She explained to me we were going to her house and I'd meet her family. She told me she had two brothers who meant the world to her and a stout, conservative father, who was very kind at heart despite his appearance.
I was getting myself into a huge mess, in normal circumstances I'd be thinking how to jump off the car before I get killed wherever they were taking me but again... she seemed so benevolent. Her words painted a picture of a happy, loving home where I'd be accepted with open arms. It sounds insane, but her gentle demeanor made everything make sense to me. Even when I was visiting my ex-girlfriend's parents, after some good seven years of dating, even then I felt uncomfortable. There was always this feeling that in the silence of the in-laws-to-be lies unfathomable disapproval and blame.
I didn't get that feeling with the girl in front of me though. I was neither afraid of her brothers nor of the monarch of a father she was illustrating so vividly.
“He can stop a car with his bare hands.” She exclaimed, with sparkling eyes and pride in her father. She sounded a lot younger than she looked, almost as if there was a child's soul in that beautiful woman's body.
“He sounds very reliable.” I concurred, never for once getting a vision of the old man's fist pummeling my ribs into salt. Instead I felt protected, as illogical as that is. The very man who was most likely to be my executioner felt like a friend, someone who would give his life for mine. It's scary to think how convincing the feeling was.
“I humbly welcome you to the Mayer Mansion.” She pointed her hand towards a big metal gateway, which was slowly opening as to commemorate our arrival. Like a kid I smiled as I watched the steel door swing open before us, ushering us into the... forest? I was looking at the bewitching lady for so long I never noticed we were going out of town. Back then I felt no unease let alone dread, but reflecting on it... what was I thinking?
I knew neither where I was nor how I got there. I was at the total mercy of a strange girl I had just met and her driver.
Her driver?... I didn't notice him before. It must had taken us at least an hour to get to such deep wilderness but I never bothered to look at him. The thought made me flinch, blood rushing to my head. Suddenly, the feeling of comfort and safety vanished, my hands twitching as a single streak of ice-cold sweat went down my arm. There was something off with this guy.
The girl kept talking to me, but I could no longer pay attention to her. My eyes were nailed to the rear view mirror, which offered a corner-view of the driver. He seemed tall, dressed in a black suit, silvery-white eyes practically glued to the road. My heartbeat was racing, waiting for something to happen. His gaze was really unusual. Not only he didn't blink once whilst driving, but his eyes were just so... dead. He wasn't looking at me through the mirror, but I felt this... discomforting sensation – like I was being watched by him... by something.
My subconsciousness was preparing me for a fight, pumping pain-numbing adrenaline through my veins. I couldn't find any reasonable explanation why the driver upset me so much, considering he had so far done nothing out of the ordinary, unlike the girl. Perhaps it was his pale, pastel-textured skin, that attracted my attention the most, but that alone shouldn't be a reason to feel such primal fear towards him.
“Hey, you can give Albert your jacket if you'd like.”
The girl was smiling at me, as we were going through a big wooden door, almost twice my height. Once again, time just slipped through under me. I frantically looked around to see where the driver was, my eyes hunting through the shadowy garden behind us, seeking to find evidence, a silhouette, that the snow-skinned man was a safe distance away. I investigated every corner, every wallowing branch, but I could see neither the car nor its driver.
“Sir, if you would.”
A gloved hand was the first thing I saw as I turned my head around. My breath froze and my teeth started clattering. It was him. Somehow, he was behind me, extending his right hand towards me in what would otherwise be an elegant gesture, offering to take my summer jacket to a hanger. I looked at him, dazed and petrified. I couldn't move, I couldn't say a word. He was not making eye contact and it didn't help that he had slightly bent down his head, akin to a bow.
“You don't have to if you wish not to! Come now, dinnertime is upon us.”
The girl pulled my left hand, turning her head around to beam a wide smile at me. Her intervention shook some of the fear off me, but now I was weary. There was just no logical reason to believe she was innately good while, I guess the butler, was seeping evil out of his every pore. I followed the girl while tracking her escort out of the corner of my eye. The house had a huge entryway, with two enormous, symmetrical stairwells extending on either side. The design was rustic and featured a lot of paintings, some of which I even recognized. I don't quite believe it myself, but I can swear I saw a Monet there.
I would write it off as a very good imitation or a print, but the impeccably polished wooden interior was complimented by a huge and extremely detailed Arabic carpet, covering most of the floor in the room. Those tend to cost well over ten thousand dollars and I guess they are hard to replicate for cheap. I couldn't think about art too much, though, as to my disdain the butler continued walking with us, just a few steps behind us. My host must have felt my unease, as she gestured him to stop following, by holding up her right hand, palm open, towards him. He bowed and turned around towards the opposite door of the one we were heading to.
“Hey... my siblings and my father are all nice guys, you know? Try not to worry too much about stuff.”
The lady in the white dress whispered to me as she pushed the door open, only to reveal an even bigger room, which had a massive, perhaps ten meter long table in the middle. The table itself was a piece of art, with many intricate carvings decorating the sides and legs, while bright golden metal lined the edges and covered most of the top part. The thought that the table was made with real gold crossed my mind but my attention was taken by the hundreds of candles shining from the three large chandeliers hanging above us. How do you even light something like this? Not only were the candles numerous, but some of them were almost as high as the ceiling, which itself was twice the height of the one at home.
“I see you are liking the atmosphere.”
There was a man in front of me, who had a weird smile. He seemed cunning and I could feel some disapproval from him, but in no way did he remind me of the butler. Blue-eyed, he had a milky-brown pull-over and well-ironed gray trousers. His rowdy blond hair was the only imperfection I've noticed ever since I met the girl. That and the instrument, of course.
“Hey Joseph, you are scaring our guest. Behave yourself.”
Another man approached, this one taller and with dark hair. He was big, approaching the two-meter mark and like the girl, he had very saturated brown eyes. He was wearing a vest with a square pattern, red and green shirt underneath. His legs were long and unusually muscular, so were his arms and torso. Nonetheless, he seemed just as benevolent as the girl. Maybe I was just resolving myself to death, since I wouldn't even be a sport if he was to fight me.
“Joseph, Klaus, you are both scaring my guest. What is wrong with you?”
The girl planted one foot on the ground, her skinny white hands now resting on her waist. To my surprise, both men started looking embarrassed, took a step back and apologized. Somehow she was not only part of this incredibly strange family, but she also seemed to be able to order around, what I deduced were her siblings, with ease.
“It's rare Elisa brings in a guest. I do hope you enjoy yourself tonight. And please, excuse any peculiarities you might have seen or felt today.”
Another man approached, who was somehow even bigger than the Klaus fellow, he had white hair and a well-mended beard barely losing its original brown color to silver. He was wearing a suit, which is a weird attire for the usual home dinner, but nothing about my situation was quite normal anyway.
Also, when he apologized for what I went through that day, he sounded genuine. Back then I didn't notice, but I guess the others were too excited to think too much about what it felt for me, a newcomer, to catch a glimpse of their world. The silver cutlery, the golden table, the candle-lit mansion in a forest that's not even on the map... those were all beautiful things to experience looking back on it.
And Elisa, she was the most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes upon. She was blushing at her father's remark and I felt myself becoming light-headed, to the point of giddiness. I was afraid to keep looking at her, surrounded by the three men, but for some reason I felt I wasn't in control of myself anymore. If this strange attraction was to be the cause of my death, I was fine with it. Living to become old only to slowly rot away to cancer or diabetes was not for me. At least that's what I thought back then.
“So...” she stuttered, “this is my father Nicolas and my two brothers – Klaus on the right and Joseph on the left.”
“Nice to meet you.” I uttered awkwardly, as I was still regaining my mental composure.
“Come on, let's eat!” the blond one, Joseph ushered. “I can kill for a meal right about now.”
His use of words took me aback and not in a particularly good way. I wasn't the only one though, as I noticed everyone else frowning at him. That gave me some sense of security, a rather fake one, but still I could sit down at the obscenely large table without fearing I'll be on it later on. This whole ordeal had made me hungry and I thought I might as well try some of that good life before kicking the bucket.
“So... my friend here, Tim, he is very sensitive when it comes to music.”
How did she know my name? I had absolutely no memory of sharing it with her. Then again, I couldn't recall half the day, least I could assume is that I introduced myself at some point.
“He can hear it.” her face expression changed, as if she was saying something of immense importance. I could feel the others holding their breaths for a moment, they seemed excited. I didn't know why, but there seemed to be a great meaning in me being able to hear the big, broken music box from before.
“There are only two nights left, no way...”
“Joseph! Mind you manners!” Nicolas smacked his bear-claw-arm onto the table, making it reverberate throughout the room. “We are civilized people, circumstance does not dictate how we conduct ourselves. There is a time to dine and there is another time to talk.”
The rest of the room became deathly silent in the blink of an eye. I could read the disappointment written on everyone else's faces, but I could not challenge this man. Not only was he naturally scary, with his bulky build and deep, commanding gaze, but I also knew nothing about what they were going on about.
“Tim, I wish to offer you dinner, but you must excuse one detail.” Nicolas exhaled audibly, as if there was some sort of a load on his shoulders. “I must ask Albert to come and serve it to us. Would that be acceptable to you?”
As soon as I heard the name Albert my teeth snapped shut, pressing and grinding against each other. I needed all my willpower just to slowly open my lips. I inhaled, the air seemingly so cold I could feel it cut through the meat of my throat. I was shaking like a leaf, I didn't know why, but it was almost as if I was suffering from hypothermia. I didn't have the strength to speak out, but I finally I managed to force my neck to nod in agreement.
Soon enough, the dreaded man came in from another, smaller door and started bringing in dishes with food I struggled to recognize. I think there was octopus, caviar, a lot of sea food mixed in with some exotic-looking vegetables and fruit. Albert was bringing plate after plate and soon everyone on the table was served except me.
“Hey Tim, what would you like to eat?” Elisa turned to me, as she was sitting on the closest chair to mine. “You can partake in what we are having or you can order anything else you wish.”
With all that happened, I would really enjoy some fish and chips with a nice cold beer, but I felt that would be extremely inappropriate and I reckoned I wouldn't get another chance to try whatever they were having again in my life.
“Yeah... this food looks... delicious.” I stuttered, looking at the girl next to me, the icy grip of fear around my heart gently melting. As soon as I said those words the butler went back to the other room and then almost immediately returned bearing multiple plates. I steeled myself for when he comes next to me, gripping my meticulously carved chair with my shaking fingers.
“Hey, you garbage, proceed on all fours as you serve master Tim.” Joseph shouted out of the blue gesturing with his hand towards me. His eyes were red with anger for some reason I couldn't quite fathom. At first I didn't even understand what was going on, but then the butler actually knelt down and started crawling towards me, plates positioned on his back. He went around the table and as he finally reached me, I feared the worse. Maybe that would be the moment he jumped me with a knife he was hiding under his waiter's cloth? Or perhaps he finally revealed he was a demon, with crimson snake eyes and large, vampiric teeth? If anything, Joseph's humiliating order would be enough to push a good man who had a bad day over the brink, let alone this creep.
Not Albert though. He silently and very carefully placed the dishes in front of me, in perfect order, while his knees were still planted on the floor. Then, after he was done, he crawled back to the other room where I wouldn't see him anymore that night. At least as far as I can remember, which unfortunately doesn't say much.
The mood quickly shifted afterwards, as Elisa clapped her hands in delight and ushered me to eat. The food was tasty in ways I can't even describe. I've honestly never eaten anything quite like what I had that very first night in the Mayer Mansion. I experienced a masterful blend of textures, tastes and aromas, all packed up in dishes that not only overjoyed the receptors in my mouth, but also looked very much like art. The great food and the mellow wine, Elisa's smile next to me and the gentle, warm embrace of the grand fireplace across me... it all made me so strangely happy and... tired.
The words of my host started melting, fusing together in a soothing cacophony of sound. My vision became blurry and soon my eyes started closing. Maybe it was because of the strange magic around these people. Or maybe I just had a long, blistering hot day of work which culminated in the weirdest and most exhilarating night of my life. I'm one of those people, who kind of catch themselves when drinking... always going home before I make a fool of myself. As much as I wanted to stay, I knew I shouldn't.
“Hey... can I...”
Suddenly, I found myself in my sleeping clothes, next to the sink in my house, holding up the toothbrush loaded with paste. I looked up and met my stare in the mirror. The chills came back instantly, my pumping heart pulsating hard throughout my body. My ears were deafened by the sound of my own blood banging around in them. Once again, how did I get to this point? I really lack any memory of what happened during what was, I supposed, a multi-hour trip back from the forest estate to where I lived.
Then, something happened. I saw a pitch-black, crooked silhouette flash behind me, reflected in my mirror. It was that man... the butler. I turned, holding my fist up, fight or flight instinct fully triggered. My hand was shaking so badly, I thought defeat and thus, death, was imminent. I shouted for him to go away, to leave me alone. I swore and then I cried out for help. My vision was blurry, I couldn't see. I couldn't hear as my arteries were jammed with rushing blood. I collapsed, helpless, on the ground, releasing my fist in surrender. There was no way I could win against that guy, was there?
I must have wallowed and trembled on the floor for many minutes, before eventually picking myself up and scrambling for my bedroom, where hopefully I'd find my phone. My first thought was to call emergency, but what the fuck would I tell them? Would anyone really believe me if I said a demon was in my house? Telling the operator that a vampire that I kinda met on this trippy dinner party with some strange, beautiful girl and her family is coming after me would at best be a good laugh. At worst, it would be a ticket for the loony express straight into the local mental facility.
Then I thought I could seek help from a friend. I looked through my contact list, which in all honestly, was dwindling following the not-so-recent break-up with my ex. I made one of the most common mistakes in life – orbiting around a person and her entourage of friends. When our time was over, not only I found myself alone in an empty house, but also I had nobody to call.
Except Josh, I guess, but he is a prick. Fuck, I'd rather get killed by the monster than bother calling him. He didn't even bring me the relief beer he promised, no way he comes slay a demon in the middle of the night.
Reflecting back on my own existence and my friends made me kind of sad, but I reminded myself that life itself is pretty random. Reason regained control of the steering wheel and I came to the conclusion that even if everything that evening was weird beyond explanation, that still didn't mean the butler invaded my bathroom. Besides, with all that weird power those people had, they could off me anytime they wished. I was alive and that was reason enough to feel relatively safe.
I tucked myself under the blanket and prepared myself for what was supposed to be the most restless night in my life.
Surprisingly I slept...
I slept like a freshly slaughtered lamb on a warm, summer, star-lit evening.
As I woke up the following morning, I entertained the thought that everything was just a one-time thing, a sort of a prank rich people do to some poor fellows like me. Maybe I got drugged somehow... I don't know when they did it, I didn't feel a thing but who knows... I guess some ninja poison dart could work. It all sounded stupid in my head, but stupid was still better than downright impossible. I proceeded to make my morning coffee when I heard something that made my exhausted soul bleed bitter, frigid tears.
I was more sad than scared, when the sound of the doorbell echoed throughout my home. I really hoped yesterday would be some rude, but still rather whimsical, gag the Mayer family played on me. As I approached the door, I could hear impatient footsteps on the other side. Someone really wanted to see me, which in my situation, couldn't be good. Best case scenario, it was the landlord, who never quite grasped the fact that when I leased his property for five years, I was expecting my ex to cover some of the bills associated with it.
Still, he wasn't the kind to come knocking on the door on a Sunday. He respects weekends and I was only a few days late. He knew kicking me out would incur him more loses than just letting a delay every other month slide. For the first time in my life I wanted to see his ugly mug as I bent down to look through the spyhole.
Unfortunately, the person I saw on the other side wasn't him... it was Joseph. I caught a faint glint in his eyes, as he seemed to had noticed me. I tried retreating from the door as quietly as I could. Careful to not make any sound whatsoever, I tip-toed backwards, hoping to escape through one of the windows facing the crappy backyard that came with the property.
“Hey, I know you are there.”
My exhaustion and sadness quickly gave way to fright when I heard those words. Even if this was all a game to them, even if I feared the butler for no reason at all, this visit meant they
were, for whatever reason, obsessed with me. I wanted nothing to do with their twisted games. I stumbled, as I tried to turn around and run for it. My body made a loud thud as I bounced off the floor and sprinted towards the other side of the house.
“Hey! Please don't run! This isn't what you think it is.”
He was a fool if he thought I'd believe him at that point. Besides, even I didn't know what I thought this whole thing was. I was so confused and utterly scared, that I wouldn't be able to stop my neglected muscles from heading the way they were heading even if I actually wanted to. My house wasn't big by any means, one door was all that stood between me and the children-room-to-be, which faced the coveted yard. I slammed myself through it without ever slowing down, knocking the door off both its hinges.
As this new obstacle fell on my path, it tripped me over. I could see the ground getting closer as I flew towards it. I put my hands in front of my face, bracing for impact. I clenched my teeth, ready to immediately pull myself up and jump through the window.
Instead of pain, however, what I felt was much worse. Two long, white hands caught me softly, entangling themselves around me. With what seemed like no effort at all, the butler had my body suspended mid-flight. His hands were extended far away from his own body... He was holding on to me, but somehow he didn't seem to feel my weight at all. His posture was such, that it seemed as if he was either nailed to the floor or he weighed a literal ton. I screamed in panic, as I felt like a swine about to meet the axe. I struggled, kicking around and landing a few elbow hits on his face and neck, but he didn't even flinch. It was like fighting a cold rock.
After few seconds of struggle, he started to slowly put me down so I could stand on my own two feet again. His skin was just as cold as his white, uncaring eyes. I could feel the creeping arctic chill penetrate my clothes and nail itself deep in me. I trembled so hard it felt my tissue would shatter, blasting thousands of bloody ice shards all around. Being touched by that thing... I knew at that moment... I knew that it wasn't... human.
“Master Tim, you must excuse me, but running away just can't do.”
For all my life I thought I'd meet my end in a witty, book-worthy way. I thought I'd be one of those guys who'd crack a bad joke on their death bed and then just kinda die, so everybody is confused as to what to feel. In reality though, I was just frozen stiff. I wanted to run, but I just... couldn't.
In part, I knew that even if I tried I wouldn't be able to outrun that... thing - it was just unnaturally strong. At that moment though, I didn't really think much. I felt... commanded to do as he said. It had this weird presence, I just couldn't disobey his instructions. His empty eyes impaled my mind and fixed it to his will. I was able to reason, think and feel, but at the same time I knew what he said to be true. There was no aggression in him, if anything his posture looked as if he was showing reverence towards me. It was just that something within him was so strong and powerful, that it gripped my conscience with its sharp, algid claws and crushed my will into submission.
“If you would, please follow me to the car.”
My eyes traced the man as he slowly walked passed me towards the entrance, where I saw Joseph before. He showed no hatred, malice or hostility, nothing to suggest he was going to hurt me if I dashed to the backyard window, but I knew I must comply. He had me on an invisible leash, shackled to his voice. Maybe that's how true fear works, but I felt almost as if I was... looking up to him.
Puppeteered, my feet lifted and I walked. In rhythm with the butler, I made step, after step, after step. The muted thuds of our feet pressing on the cheap, creaking wooden floor aligned in agonizing unison. Perfectly spaced apart, our footsteps were akin to a metronome, tirelessly counting the beats of suffocating fear my heart pushed through my veins.
One, two, three, four... One, two, three, four... One, two... tap.
I inhaled violently, almost as if I was awoken from a very deep, catatonic slumber. My senses sharpened, forcing time itself to warp for a heartbeat. The being in front of me, he was tapping that song. He was walking, stumbling in a way that was clearly similar to the rhythm of the song I heard the music box play. My ears started ringing, I could hear the tones as if I was there, behind Josh's pub, listening to that unworldly tune. I could feel the metallic taste of the nuts and bolts that made up the old, hand-cranked instrument. I could hear, feel, even taste the music.
I was strung onto that device, moved by the strange power of the man before me, hitting every beat with utmost precision. For a brief moment it felt I ascended to a plane where sound was more than a mechanical wave reverberating through the air. I could touch the music, I could... talk to it. And not only that strange piece with the microtones, I could... feel everything.
“Hey... you there? Hey?? Hey Tim, don't tell me you fucking broke.”
I got literally shaken out of the trans I found myself into. In front of me I saw Joseph, worried, shaking me to the point of pain. He was breathing heavily, his pupils dilated by the adrenaline. He was shouting, asking me if I was okay. Wonder quickly gave way to confusion, as I was too overwhelmed to understand what in hell was going on with me. It was only after Joseph bore his thumbs so hard into my shoulder joints and I screamed in pain, that I finally came to my senses.
“Hey... hey, sorry man. I didn't mean to hurt you. I just thought... it did something to you.”
He was panting, stuttering, trembling like a feverous dog. What had caused this was not anger or hatred and it looked too damn good to be some sort of a sick act to mess with me. He was genuinely worried about me. That thought gave me shivers, as I realized that there was something really important at stake here. That and his choice of pronouns. He called the butler “it”.
I watched Joseph sweat before me, he was afraid... terrified. I remembered him mentioning something the previous night... about there being little time left. I couldn't think of many things a man in his position would fear so much as to be on the edge of breaking. I was damn certain he wasn't overdue on his rent payment.
"Hey, Joseph..." I struggled to find my words, " it's OK. I think I'm fine... in a way."
"So, it didn't hurt you?"
Joseph clenched my arms by the elbows, still shaking and mumbling, but at least regaining his color back from the white canvas he was before.
"No, I don't think so." I replied, trying to rewind in my mind the string of events that unfolded earlier. "My memory has been fuzzy since yesterday, but weirdly enough I only remember... it... being strangely respectful towards me. "
"Yeah... that's how it is. Almost makes you feel like it's your friend when..." he paused, visibly gulping at the thought of what he was going to say next.
"When what?" I inquired, out of both curiosity and concern for my safety. "What is he?"
"Well... that's a pretty long story and I don't think we should be wasting time here. I promise you'll get a good explanation when we go back home."
“Hey!” I snapped, without any particular consideration for my health and well-being. “Just tell me what the fuck is going on already!”
At that point I wasn't that scared of Joseph. He was obviously playing some part in all this, but his meek eyes and trembling lips were most likely not an act. He also sounded like he needed me for some reason, so chances were high he wouldn't harm me. The real problem, it was standing just a few paces away from us, next to the luxury SUV I found myself in yesterday.
The butler looked straight into me, almost as if he was judging me. His face expression was blank as always but I could feel a smile gently creeping in. It was as if something was awakening inside of him, maybe it was the same exact thing that Joseph was so terrified of. Speaking of the blond man directly in front of me, he was mumbling something quietly to himself. It sounded... German. That just added an additional layer of confusion, where there was already plenty.
“Well...” he let out a sob, “if not for me, would you come to the mansion for Lis? If you don't... then well... she will die tomorrow.”
“Die?” I exclaimed. I felt genuinely worried, even though this was all so illogical. Something about the girl from yesterday, something made her be so endearing in my mind. She was special. She was a part of that weird world with the songs. I don't know why, but I knew she's seen that place the butler showed me. I was sure she danced there, in the million lights and sounds. With her brilliant white dress she gently floated atop the waves of rhythm until...
she could ascend.
“I'm coming.” I stated, my feelings, my thoughts changed by the thought of losing Elisa. Like a computer everything in me reset and all the fear, all the confusion, everything that shackled me up until a moment ago was alleviated. The place with the songs... it called for me. I was summoned to participate in something, something that was out of this world.
I rushed past Joseph and quickly sat at the back of the car, door mindfully opened by the white-skinned butler. The young Mayer sibling got even more confused as to what had just happened, me changing my mind so quickly and suddenly becoming unnaturally decisive about a trip to their estate. My mind now clear, I could see... feel what had chained him in fear. I knew. He was about to die tomorrow night.
Little did he know, it would be by my hands.
= = = (End of Part I) = = =
Hey Doc, I really love listening to your channel! Also, let me properly thank you for your narration of my previous story (Evil Within) it gave me the chills, even though I knew what was going to happen! :) Parts two and three of this story coming right up.
If you happen to like this one, can you please credit it to Ivan Radev? Thanks a lot!
Submitted September 29, 2019 at 03:52AM by MasterL0L https://ift.tt/2mHlirD
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