I am a dreamer. My dreams are more real to me than reality. Here, I pass through each day in a haze, one moment blending into the next, one year blending into another. Most of my memories of the past are hazy at best, slipping through my history like a pickpocket through a crowd, grabbing hold of whatever strikes its fancy with no rhyme or reason I can discern. Faces of friends, words that were spoken, and promises broken all fade into obscurity through the passage of time.

On the other hand, my dreams are striking and vivid. Each moment has meaning and importance. Every setting is a puzzle to be unraveled. Every person has a role to play. The worst part about my dreams is waking in this world again and feeling the shadows smother my reality again. I find myself trudging through each day, waiting for enough time to pass that I can awaken into the world of my next dream.

I will tell you of one such dream. Some may call this a nightmare, but to me, it was just another living dream.

In this world, the world in which I am telling you this story, I have little to no musical talent. I might hum along with a favorite song and maybe tap my feet to a rhythmic beat, but that is the extent of my abilities. However, in the reality of my dream, I was a musician of some skill. Not enough to be important or well known, but good enough that I refused to give up on my dreams of something greater. I poured my heart and soul into my craft, and around me I slowly gathered great debts and fading relationships.

But I did have this one song I was writing. If I could only finish it, I'm pretty sure I could sell it. I just needed more time to finish it...

Eventually, things progressed to the point that I could no longer ignore them. I was in danger of losing my apartment and my instruments, and thus my dream. So that was why after a particularly unsatisfying set at a low-paying gig, I actually noticed an advertisement on the grungy particleboard next to my patron's bar. It simply said, "Wanted, piano tuner." and had a number to call.

Needing the money, I called the number. I still remember the voice that answered. It was annoyingly curt and oddly snivelly, like the person on the other end was talking through a stuffy nose. "Yes? What?"

Not sure what to say, I paused a moment. Remembering the debt I owed to all the wrong people, I shook my head and spoke up. "Um... Yeah... I'm calling about an ad for a piano tuner?"

The voice on the other end suddenly grew warm, though no less snivelly than before. "Oh yes, the ad! We've got a number of pianos that need tuning, and we'll pay well for quality work. Think you're up to the job?"

I was a bit taken aback by the sudden change in tone. I stuttered a moment as my eyes blinked while I gathered my thoughts. "Um, well, yes, I'm pretty familiar with tuning most instruments, pianos included, but I don't have a car, so distance may be an issue. Where's the job at?"

The voice grew warmer, but it was the kind of warm that oozed insincerity and condescension. It made my skin crawl. "Oh, you've probably never heard of our village, but if you must know, it's a gated community called Pheaent's End. Travel is no problem, we will send someone to pick you up. Each house has a piano, and each night you will tune one piano. We will pay you one thousand dollars a night, plus room and board. How soon can you start?"

I had been just about to turn the job down. As badly as I needed the money, it wasn't worth dealing with such an arrogant rat of a man, but then he mentioned the pay. "One thousand dollars a night? To tune just one piano each night? Did I hear you correctly?"

The voice was suddenly smug and satisfied, he had me, and he knew it. "That's right, one piano, one thousand dollars. So again, how soon can you start?"

I bit my tongue. I'd lost more than one decently paying job by telling my bosses what I thought of them, but for a thousand dollars a night, for so little work, I could definitely keep those thoughts to myself. "Um, right away, I guess. Just let me go home and get a few things."

The voice once more returned to its curt manner from the beginning, though it still held a bit of the self-satisfied edge that grated on my bones. "Excellent! Go and get what you need. Our driver will be there shortly!"

The line went dead before I could tell him where I lived, and I found myself wondering how the driver was going to find me...

-

Honestly, I don't remember much of the drive. We drove past a blur of trees, hills, and houses when finally I realized we'd been driving through a suspiciously isolated forest for some time. I think the thing that struck me most odd was how well maintained the road was. Usually, driving through back hills like this, the road would be dirt, or at the very least full of potholes, but this road looked as though it had been repaved recently. Even the painted lines looked fresh. I was just taking a breath to comment about the oddity of it all when I noticed we were slowing.

As we turned one last corner, we came to a halt in front of some of the most enormously imposing gates I'd ever seen. They looked as if they were designed to fend off a siege of some kind. As my driver got out to approach the intercom, I couldn't help but mutter my thoughts out loud. "Or maybe, they're meant to keep something inside?" I'd meant it as a joke, to lighten the situation a little. Instead, the words echoed around in my head, conjuring all sorts of terrible images and possibilities from my imagination.

Soon, the gates shook as powerful motors drew them aside. As they withdrew into the walls, I could finally make out what lay beyond. The forest had been deep and oppressive, but before me stood a beautifully picturesque village I’ve ever seen. It could have been taken out of a nineteen-fifties movie if you replaced the houses with mansions.

Even with the setting sun, everything was bright and cheerful, lawns and gardens were immaculate, and I could even hear birds singing in the distance. I don't know what I'd been expecting, but this wasn't it.

I looked over to my driver, but he just stood there impassively, as though waiting for something. That was when I heard footsteps approaching through the shadows cast by the setting sun. Whoever it was, was certainly coming from some distance away, but they always stayed just within the slowly expanding shadows.

Finally, as the sun faded from view, I could make out a man approaching. The odd thing is that as I'm writing this, I can't remember his face. I remember all the specific details. He had a long nose, thin lips, a scraggly attempt at mutton chops, and beady eyes that seemed to dart to and fro, but in my mind, the pieces of the puzzle refuse to come together. They slip and slide around on his face, refusing to form any kind of coherent image.

Once he was a few feet away, he came to a halt, and a familiar snivelly voice greeted me. "Welcome! Come with me. The first piano awaits!"

I started to protest, looking back at the car when I noticed the driver was now gone. My guide waved away my concerns. "Do not worry! The driver will deliver your things to the place you'll be staying. While you're here, your every need will be seen too. All you have to do is tune the pianos. As I said, the first piano awaits, so please, follow me!"

Appearing to have little choice in the matter, I complied. As we walked, my guide continued to speak, though I noticed he never bothered to make eye contact. "Your first piano will be in the house of Lord Evens."

I had to stifle a laugh. 'Lord Evens'? Really? Just how full of themselves were these people? I literally bit my tongue to keep from saying anything as my guide continued. "You'll find he's one of the more down-to-earth members of our little community. I thought he would be the best job for you to start out with."

I simply nodded but didn't say anything. The only things I could think to say at the moment would probably cost me this job, and I couldn't afford that. Appearing to find my acknowledgment acceptable, my guide walked the rest of the way in silence. Not having anything productive to say, I did as well.

He led me into the nearest of the mansions and through several halls decked out in the gaudiest gold trim, tacky statues, and even one gallery featuring honest to god suits of armor. If this 'Lord Evens' was the most down-to-earth of the lot, I'm not sure I was ready to meet the rest.

Eventually, we came to a halt in a surprisingly simplistically tasteful room. The centerpiece of it all was an elegant grand piano, the kind of which was obviously worth more than I could make in a year. I looked over at my guide, but he was already turning to leave. "Well, go ahead and get to it. I'm sure Lord Evens will be down to check on your progress shortly." With that, he was gone, and I was now alone in the oppressively silent room.

Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged and decided to get to work. Sitting down at the piano, I decided to give the keys a quick brush to see how out of tune this piano was. Instead of a cacophony of oscillating tones like I expected, my ears were met with only clear, crisp notes.

I blinked in confusion for a moment. Maybe this Evens actually knew a thing or two about pianos and kept it relatively in tune? I was probably only there to fine-tune it beyond what he was capable of. Bending closer and angling my ear to hear even the tiniest discrepancies, I struck a single key. The note came back as pure and clean as any I'd ever heard. Working my way up and down the keyboard, every note was the same. This piano was expertly tuned, far better than I could manage.

I was just sitting back and looking at the piano in confusion when I heard my guide's footsteps return. Without taking my eyes off the puzzle in front of me, I spoke. "There must be some mistake. This piano is already perfectly tuned."

I nearly jumped out of my skin when the voice the responded was rich with warmth and mirth, unlike the snivelly tone I'd been expecting. "Oh, excellent! I've been practicing my hand at piano tuning. I'm glad to hear my hard work has paid off!"

Turning around, I was met by a jolly overweight man with a full head of hair and an even fuller beard. I'm reasonably sure he could have passed for anyone's generic grandfather if he'd not been wearing a business suit that looked as though it cost something upwards of ten grand merely to stitch together. I stuttered a moment before finding my words. "Oh, um, you must be Lord Evens! I'm sorry, I was expecting... uh... someone else."

Evens smiled. "Oh, don't worry about it. All these empty halls can play tricks on the ear."

Not sure what else to say, I started rubbing the back of my neck absentmindedly. "Well, I'm sorry to say I won't be of much help to you here. This piano is already tuned as well as I could manage, if not better. I guess..." I really didn't want to say the next part... "I guess you don't have to pay me tonight."

Evens smiled delightedly, even as he waved away my concerns. "Nonsense! You came all the way out here at our request. You must be paid! If it's a matter of pride, I can respect that, so what say we come to a different agreement?"

I didn't like where this was going. "What kind of agreement?"

Even's smiled again. It was an amiable smile. One I'd seen on a hundred faces a hundred times, but for some reason, on his face, it seemed a little... off. "Oh, nothing too demanding, I assure you! You see, in addition to being a bit of an amateur piano tuner, I'm also a bit of an amateur composer. I've written a song for the piano that I'm convinced would be splendid to listen to, but I'm afraid it's just a little beyond my ability to play. If you play the song for me, we can call that services rendered, and you'll be paid in full!"

Feeling like the other shoe had yet to drop, I cautiously agreed. "Alright, I suppose that would be fine. Where's the song you'd like me to play?"

Evens nodded at the piano behind me. "Why, it's already set up, ready to go."

Turning back around to face the piano, I could see he was right. I didn't remember the sheet music being there before, but maybe I'd just been so focused on the tuning that it had escaped my notice.

Stepping closer to get a better look, I noticed the sheet was odd. It was as though it was constantly shifting and moving. Any note I focused on froze in place, but all the rest seemed to be in constant flux. It made my head hurt just to look at it. Turning back to Evens with my confusion probably evident, I couldn't help but express my doubts. "I'm sorry, sir, but I don't think I'm good enough to play this either. Something about this song is..."

Evens cut me off. "Oh, don't worry about it. I'm not expecting you to play it perfectly, just take it one note at a time and see how it sounds! If it's a matter of money, I'll even double your pay for the night!"

Two thousand dollars just to play one song? It didn't matter how weird this place was or how big a headache I got looking at the music. I was gonna give it my best shot.

I sat down and focused my attention on the first note, freezing it in place under my scrutiny. Upon striking the key, the following note froze as well, then another, and another. Soon I was playing the single most beautiful piece of music I'd ever heard.

As I write this, the song has completely faded from my memory. I can't so much as hum a single bar. What I do remember is what I felt as I played. This song was the very essence of sadness and loss. I could feel tears running freely down my face as I fell into the song. The music spoke to me of lost loves, faded dreams, forgotten summers, and more. Even when I closed my eyes, the music continued to come to me unbidden, and my fingers danced the keys of the piano as though I'd known this song my entire life.

I have no idea how long I played, but eventually, my trance was broken by the light of the rising sun shining through the window. My fingers ached, my back was sore, and I felt like I was dying of hunger and thirst, but I didn't care. Playing that song had been the single greatest moment of my life. If I died right then, I could die happy.

Judging by the look on lord Even's face, he agreed. With a nod of his head, he held out the promised money. Two thousand dollars. I took it without saying a word and turned to leave the same way I'd come in. As I walked through the halls I’d walked through before, everything passed in a blur. None of that mattered. Instead, I was trying desperately to hold onto the song that was already fading from my memory. However, as soon as I set foot outside the mansion, the music was gone forever.

Try as I might, I couldn't remember a single note to add to my song.

-

The next night I found myself following my guide once again. This time he led me to a mansion with deep red curtains, beautifully carved masonry, and even a sizable ornate fountain as a centerpiece out in front of the main entrance. It was so stereotypical of something I might expect a mansion to look like as a child, I had to bite my tongue once again.

After the silence of our walk, I jumped a bit when my guide's snivelly voice cut into my thoughts. "This is the home of Lady Scarlet. She's a bit more... aggressive than your first client, but as long as you fulfill your role, she'll leave you be. Just be sure to mind your manners."

Walking into the mansion, I could see the room was adorned in red, from the carpet to the drapery. I thought that 'Lady Scarlet' might be a little too on the nose, but remembering my guide's warning, I kept that thought to myself.

I wasn't sure when my guide left my side, but it didn't seem to matter because there was the piano I was here to tune, right in the middle of the room. It was a lithe but elegant piece, made from cherry wood with gold leaf highlights and polished to perfection.

Sitting down, I couldn't help but grow suspicious. With a slight frown, I tested my suspicion by striking a key. As I'd expected, the sound that rang out was crystal clear. This piano was also tuned to perfection.

This time I was expecting the voice that purred out of the darkness behind me. "Hmmm, she does have a lovely voice, doesn't she?"

Turning around, I saw a woman who could only be Lady Scarlet. She was dressed in a sleek, form-fitting gown, red of course, accented by red gloves and a red hat. It would have been far too much red on anyone but her, but somehow she pulled it off.

As she approached me, I couldn't help but notice she moved with unearthly grace, undulating like a snake slipping across the floor. Even her eyes were those of a preditor, and I was definitely the prey.

She stopped short and shifted her attention from me to the piano. "So why aren't you tending to her needs?"

I suppose Lady Scarlet should have been attractive. Certainly, she fit all criteria. But when her attention shifted back from the piano to me again, I couldn't help but wish she'd rest her gaze anywhere other than on myself. It was starting to seem like everything about this place was off by just the slightest margins, and it was really starting to unsettle me more and more as time went on.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to answer her, if only to break the uncomfortable silence that came with her stare. "Um, well, it seems your piano has already been tuned. I'm afraid there's not much I can do here."

Lady Scarlet's eyes flashed, and in them, I saw the promise of violence. "So you just came here to waste my time?"

Remembering my guide's final warning, I tried again, this time with better manners. "I apologize, Lady Scarlet, but this piano is beyond my ability to tune. If I tried, I'm afraid I would only make it worse. Since I was unable to help you this evening, you don't need to worry about the fee."

She laughed derisively. "Do I look like your fee is of any consequence to myself? My time is far more valuable than that paltry money. In return for wasting my time, I demand a service out of you!"

I quickly realized where this was going. Turning around, I saw some sheet music waiting for me on the piano. Just like before, it hurt to look at, though this time, the hand that scrawled the notes was obviously more aggressive than before. The notes were sharply written, almost jagged in form. The pace was sharp and rappid. At a glance, it looked like the song could only be a bundle of incoherent noise, but then I struck the first chord.

Just like before, I quickly fell into the music as I played it. Just like before, all I remember are the thoughts and impressions I had of the music. This song was angry and violent. It voicelessly sang to me of scorned love, betrail, revenge, and murder. I remember thinking at one point, my fingers must have blistered and broken because it felt like the keys were soaked in blood, but I didn't dare to look.

Instead, I lost myself in the music again. I could feel my heartbeat tied to the tempo of the song. During the violent climax, I experienced a surge of adrenaline and felt my face twist into a gleeful snarl of hate. At the conclusion, my heartbeat slowed, and the adrenaline faded, but the hatred remained. It became a cold vice that wrapped itself around my heart, and I knew that same violence would only ever be a heartbeat away.

The feeling only passed when the rays of the rising sun once again pierced through my window, and I once again felt myself break from whatever trance the music had placed me in.

To my relief, when I turned around this time, the client was not there. Instead, there was an envelope with my pay inside. I picked it up and left the mansion as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. After all, a predator like that was more likely to give chase if I did.

I barely thought about the fact that I forgot the music again.

-

Each night passed much the same. My guide would take me to another mansion with a perfectly tuned piano and a host who seemed just a little off. I would play a piece of powerful music until dawn, then I'd get paid and leave. The most maddening thing was that no matter how hard I tried, I could never remember a single song once I set foot outside the mansion.

I'm not sure how long things went on like this. Maybe it would have gone on forever. Certainly, there seemed to be no end of mansions in sight. Then one morning, everything changed.

As I was leaving a mansion owned by a man who was friendly in all the wrong ways, a voice called out to me. This voice sounded almost like someone was vomiting out the words rather than speaking them. Turning to see who's called out, I saw something I hadn't ever expected to see in this place.

Standing before me was a homeless man, one who'd obviously gotten where he was through hard living and bad decisions. His teeth were rotten, his breath smelled of death, and the stains on his coat spoke of violence and worse.

I shook my head. This place must be getting to me. I wasn't the type to look down on someone just because they'd had a run of bad luck. Hell, I'd almost gone down that road myself before I found this job. Given my current financial well-being, the least I could do was spare a bit of time and money to help this man get a bit of food in his stomach or even just forget about his problems for a while if he spent the money in a different way.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out some cash and held it out. I didn't look too close at how much I grabbed, but it was probably close to a hundred, give or take.

The vagabond gave me a smile that sent shivers up and down my spine before batting my hand away. When he spoke, I was almost too distracted by holding my breath to pay attention to his words. "I'm not asking for your help kid, I'm offering you mine. Doesn't this job seem a little too good to be true? Doesn't something seem off about this place?"

I blinked a few times as I considered his words. He was right. Something did definitely seem off about this place and its people. Why have I never heard of a place this outlandish so near my home?

Seeing the gears in my head start to turn, the man smiled, and I could clearly see his bleeding gums. "Tell me, what have you done with all that money they've been giving you? When was the last time you actually went back to the free room they offered you? When was the last time you remember sleeping?"

His words were absurd. Of course I've been going back to my room and sleeping. That's where I'd been headed when he interrupted me after all. What else would I do during the day while I waited for my next job?

That was when I noticed it wasn't day any longer. At some point, the sun had set again, and it was night once more. I blinked stupidly as I tried to understand what was happening when he spoke again. "Or maybe, you've just been going from one job to the next without end? Constantly playing strange music and feeling like you're just a little more exhausted each time?"

I was exhausted, but I tried to tell myself that it was just because of how hard I've been working. But that didn't explain why I couldn't remember ever going to my room or sleeping. It didn't explain why everything in this place seemed to be so close to normal but so offputting.

The man shook his head as if I was a particularly dim-witted student. "This village is old, far older than you realize, and the people in it are even older still. They each sold their souls to various gods, demons, and devils in return for money, power, and longevity. But those gifts aren't free. You see, their patrons require payment for their services. That payment is made in souls."

I laughed. It was meant to be dismissive laughter. This man had obviously gone insane and was spewing nonsense. However, the laughter that left my mouth started out a little unsettled before slowly shifting to the laughter of a doomed man hiding behind his own delusions in the face of the nightmare his life was becoming.

The drifter laughed with me. "You get it now! You're nothing more than some stupid beast being led to the slaughter! The best part is, it no longer matters! You can't do anything to save yourself! From the moment you played the first note of that first song, your fate was sealed, and your soul is no longer your own!"

He waited a moment while I caught my breath, then shifted from idiotic laughter to stoic placidity in the blink of an eye. "But there is still one thing you can do."

Just like that, he held my attention once again. "I thought you said I couldn't save myself?"

He grinned, but this wasn't the mad grin from before. It was still insane, but for the second time since arriving here, I felt like I was looking into the eyes of a preditor. "You can't. But, you can take them with you. As old and powerful as these people are, and as old and powerful as the gods they worship are, there are still things beyond the scope of their understanding. Things that existed before reality as we know it had form. Things that cannot be named or understood. They offer no gifts but a death so complete even your soul won’t escape. If you call them here, well, at least you'll know you won't die alone."

As he spoke, his words tore at my soul. I knew everything he said was true. I can't explain it or even understand it, but at that moment, he and I existed at the same place at the same time, and I would feel the certainty and honesty of his words.

Stepping back into myself, I shook my head. "How do I call them?"

He smiled again, though this time, his mouth was suddenly full of unnervingly sharp teeth. "How else? You play their song!"

He reached out and placed a crumpled ball of paper in my hands. It was so rumpled, stained, and torn that I was sure it must have been useless, but before I could say anything, the man was gone, and I could hear footsteps behind me. I pocketed the paper before turning around.

There, moving at a rushed pace for the first time I could remember, was my guide. He seemed relieved to have found me. "There you are! I've been looking all over! You're late for your next job, now hurry!"

I debated asking questions or just saying 'Screw this!' and walking away, but before I could choose either my guide grabbed me by the wrist and started walking away. His grip was so tight, it felt like my arm was in danger of having its bones crushed, so rather than fight, I started followed.

I could hear his snivelly voice droning on about something as we walked. He was probably telling me about the next mansion and its host, but I couldn't focus enough to make any sense out of it. Instead, my mind was replaying all the things the vagabond had told me.

Over the last week, things like long spacious halls filled to the brim with priceless artifacts had stopped impressing me. It was the norm here, and I honestly couldn't care less what gold leaf trim this particular host chose for hall. One vase caught my eye though. As I looked at it, I wondered if it had been genuinely priceless or if a price had been paid. How much of a soul did this vase cost? Or did souls vary in worth? Was the soul of a good man worth more than another? Or maybe it was their futures that determined their worth? Perhaps the future of a med student who would have gone on to cure cancer was savored like a fine wine...

I shook my head. I was approaching the piano now. My guide had already left my side, and my host had yet to show their face. I didn't bother to check the piano. I already knew it was going to be in perfect tune. Instead, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the crumpled paper the mad vagabond handed me earlier.

As I looked at the paper, I hesitated. Even folded in this manner, it seemed to ooze malevolence. Honestly, my hand felt filthy just by virtue of physical contact. This paper was wrong. The deepest, most primitive parts of my brain knew that this thing was blasphemy to all of creation. The...thing in my hands could not exist, and if I so much as acknowledged it, I would already be giving it far more power than any sane man should.

Slowly, I pulled at the corners of the thing, straightening it into something that vaguely resembled the outline of a sheet of music. I say outline because I could not focus on the actual paper. My eyes kept slipping from one side to the other, refusing to rest on what lay between the borders of the page.

I placed the paper on the music desk. It was harder to do than I thought it would be. The piano seemed to shy away from the sheet as I pushed it forward. I could hear the wood of the piano creaking and groaning as it twisted and pulled away from the blasphemy I was forcing on it.

I focused my eyes on the notes. At first, all I saw was void, then, a twisted parody of my face came into focus.. The face I laughed, cried, and gnashed its teeth before fading from view, leaving the notes where my haunted, sunken eyes had been.

The notes hurt to look at. Not like the notes from the previous music sheets, these hurt because they did not exist, nor did anything around them. The notes were holes in reality, glimpses into the chaos hidden by the lie of order. I felt myself crying, but after wiping my face, my hands came away bloody.

I raised my hands. The weight of all reality pushed down, trying to prevent what was happening. The screams of everyone past, present, and never to come echoed through the hall, begging me to stop, asking if my soul demanded such a high price that all of reality must pay its debt.

I hesitated. This was that point, the point of no return. If I went any further, I was condemning everything and everyone to a reality without time, sanity, or existence. In its place would burn an inferno of chaos and ever-living death. Did I really want to do this?

Then the door opposite the piano slammed open. There, looking down at me, was the most ostentatious peacock of a man I'd ever witnessed. He glared at me with fury plain on his face. "Who are you? You’re not fit to stain my mansion with your filth! You are a blight in my eyes that must be removed! Begone! My sacrifice is coming, and this room must be pristine for his performance!"

I couldn't help myself. I laughed. Well, it was more of a giggle, really, a high-pitched jaggedly titter of a sound that had no sanity or mirth behind it. I could feel my tears begin to fall again, staining the piano with my life.

My host's face contorted with disgust. "What is wrong with you man? This isn't some charity or hospital for you to defile with your presence!" He came stomping around, only to freeze in place once he saw the sheet music befouling his piano. "Where did you get that? Do you know what that is? What it could do?"

I smiled, though I could feel the smile twisting farther than my lips could follow as I responded. "It is the answer. THE TRUTH! It is the unholy holy reality of all things. If I play this music, all your little empires will crumble to dust, and you will join me in filth, burning and screaming forever! All the little teeth will dance across your bones! It will open your eyes! And we will ALL finally...awaken..."

As I spoke, I could see his disgust turn to fear, then terror. He reached out to slap me. I didn't feel the impact. He grabbed my arms and tried to pull me away, but I'd just resisted everything all of reality could bring to bear, and he was no more successful than it had been. He reached for the music but stopped. As he sat there, I knew he was hearing them. The voices.

I don't know when they'd started chittering in my ear. Maybe it was a moment ago when I'd been about to play the music. Or perhaps it was back when I'd met the vagrant. That wasn't right... Maybe they'd been here in this village the whole time? No, these voices had always been here, with me, chittering and chatting away, day in and day out, feeding me madness and feeding off my pain.

The madness… What was it they fed me? I lost it, when I gave it to that boy who never was… Looking at the music again, I recognized it. This was the music I'd written my whole life. Always scribbling and scrawling away. Each and every note was written in my own hand. Even now, I could see myself in the past, absently scrawling on the sheet while I worried about the bills I had to pay.

Looking down, I realized I was wearing the vagabond's coat. When had I taken his coat? Wait, no, it wasn't his coat, it was my coat. The coat I was going to wear, in the future that will never happen, when I give myself the music that doesn't exist...

I twisted my head to look at the man frozen in fear. My head was bent in the most horrendously impossible way as I gifted him with the most comforting smile of hunger I could offer. "Such a lovely peacock you'll make, cooked and set neatly next to the pheasant. I wonder how your soul will taste to mine as we are both devoured in the mind of the sleeper that wakes?"

For some reason, my words of comfort seemed to upset the poor young man. As I slammed my hand down to play the first note, he ran screaming into the night. The notes and chords rent the air, and desperate cries began to fill the streets. My laughter joined the music, and I knew that I had written it in from the beginning, each vocal expulsion playing in perfect harmony with the chorus. Soon the screams, begging, and crying in the streets joined in as well. The pleasant color of warm, cheerful fires in the street accented the blood-stained windows, bathing the room in the most beautiful red light. I'm sure Lady Scarlet would have approved if her soul wasn't currently being torn into savory strips to be devoured at leisure.

I laughed, played, and cried. My tears joined the blood of my fingers on the sticky keys as the furious beauty of my music tore me to pieces, but still, I played on. My laughter gave out as my vocal cords were pulled from my throat, but still, I played on. The world was burning, I was burning, the sleeper was awakening, but still, I played on. I would play on forever! I would play on until the end! I would play on until...

-

After that, my dream ended, and I awoke to this world once again. This dull,grey, lifeless world. The world in which I tell my stories. The stories that were once told to me. I hear the stories from the voices. The chittering and chatting voices that are always with me, telling me dreams to write down. I'm always writing this story, scribbling and scrabbling away, but my story is almost finished.

Soon, I will awaken...