Death Waltz
Author: Dalek Cruccibul

Chapter 13
The Talent's Inferno

 

“I don't think I've told you an awful lot about my father Charles.” Rex began pacing back and forth, but keeping his uttermost attention on the Death Waltz.

“My father, like me, was voted into office after the passing away of his father. You probably know this already. Since Adamsula runs as a Democracy that votes for its leaders, but also runs as a Monarchy of leadership passed down from generation to generation, my family line has been in rule for as long as this capital city has stood. There were, of course, natives who lived on this island before anybody in the world ever knew it was even here.”

“My father held high expectations for me as a kid. The heirloom that I have given you was originally meant for me to play. I never got around to that. He did play the songs in this book, even though I have not. It's because of watching him play them that I never wanted to play them myself. I'm not sure if it started with a specific song, but my bet was Death Waltz. He never wanted to play that. He always complained about how much he disliked the song. Yet he always played it, like some sort of demon drawing him in. Unlike you Charles, he never finished the song. He went mad out of his mind before he ever played the final note. Killed himself, with one shot of the revolver. He never had as much talent as you do, though.”

“Neither do I of course. I know what the piano is capable of. I don't want to die of insanity. I didn't want to leave my nation. It's not that my death would look bad on public account. We have always kept the true identity of my father's death a secret. Everyone out there thinks my father died of natural cause. It's a good thing he hadn't done anything rash before he died. We ended up having to lock him up in this very room.”

The Talent hadn't been paying very much attention to the monologue. The song was beginning to become too much to handle. His mind wasn't thinking clearly anymore. He had started the song off so well, but now he felt like things were going terribly wrong. He felt like his head was under pressure. He felt like his head was going to explode any moment now. He could hardly breathe. Each gasp for air was a laborious task. But he just couldn't stop playing. He felt like he was a puppet, and that he wasn't the one pulling the strings. The stress was getting to him. And he couldn't breathe! The world around him began to warp. His eyesight grew hazy, and his fingers began to blend with the keyboard.

The Talent spotted it crawling over the side of the piano. It was revolting, looking at it. What was he looking at? It was a creature cloaked in black. He couldn't really see anything under the cloak. But despite what little visual it gave him, The Talent felt the need to throw up. It gave him the most uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. But he didn't stop playing. He just kept hitting every white and black key, striking each one after another. He would never stop!

 

HE WOULD NEVER STOP!

 

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