Chapter 1
The night sky, blackened by the clouds floating over head, seemed to mask the feeling of despair in the air. The moon shone brightly like the high beams of a lonesome car on the back roads of the uninhabited areas of this land. The moon seemed to have itself fixated on one particular spot; a forgotten relic of human expansion, a mansion of inglorious size long thrown away by the people who owned it. The rundown fortress had been rotten away by time, the ceiling had caved in decades ago allowing nature to take this building as one of its own. The long vines wrapping themselves along glorious smudged marble columns, statues of Greek and Spanish decent lay scattered like puzzles along the floor. As if the world had played a child with its blocks scattering stone hands and heads around amongst the dirt and grime of the ages. What had once been a great and powerful home to great and powerful men now resembled more its new residence. A single person lived in the ravage of time a man who some say is more a ghost then a living being. The rumors of his existence are few and far between, but to those idiotic enough to go thrill seeking in tragic lands soon discover themselves part of the mystery that surrounds it. They called him the Piano Man of Monte Vienna and his tale is tragic and to depressing for most listeners. But I digress that story is for later on.
The Piano Man stood amongst the rubble and destruction, his sanctuary per say, and kept to himself, he never slept, never moved from beyond its walls until the night welcomed him to the doorway. The moon was in love with his sanctuary as it seems, casting the bright blue light down atop of it making the dark dismay hallways glow with the passion only the moon could exchange with the world. No human can ever create the beauty that nature can, only copy it; and to be truthful this copy is a shame to its predecessor. As an honor of the moon the man slowly made his way along the glistening hallways, thankful the roof of this mansion had given in to the pressures of existence long ago, and to a special room he had kept clear of time. A room with a door so simple and yet so magnificent most who walk through this place would identify it as the mast bedroom entrance. But inside this little area lay no bed, no dresser, no mirror, and no item all except for a lonely snow colored piano. The piano was in wonderfully beautiful and perfect condition, its clean white surface and ivory keys glistened and glittered in the moonlight sending the rays of reflected light dancing along the walls of this little room. As if to add to its singularity and beauty, the room itself contradicted of color, the black walls and black floor shared no distinction between each other. The only part of the room that shared the gift of color was the piano and the long distraught roof top. The unknown phantom of a man walked slowly through the room, the flooring had to be marble or cobblestone for his footsteps echoed like those of long ago along the bottom allowing his movement to pick up some sort of rhythm.
The unknown figure of the lost past sat down on the cold wooden bench of the cotton colored piano, placing his hands out before him, the phantoms hands were large but clean of any hair, the wrist that disappeared into the darkness of his clothing was scarred and darkened, grey lines etched across the stone skin similar to the statues that surround the flooring of the main hall. As the figure slowly rested his finer tips on the ivory keys a small echo, a misstep in his movement causing a hammer to prematurely strike the chord inside the musical instrument. He froze as if this very movement had destroyed his peace his body bent over the keys as if aching with distraught. He brought his hands in clutching at his chest as a sound began to escape the figure. It was dark and full of pain, a cry of agony and anguish that vibrated off the black walls and through the mansion. Regretfully because of its dismay and construction the marble stone flooring and statues picked up and amplified the cry sending it like a vibration up and out to the world through the decayed ceiling cascading along the world outside blackened by the unforgiving night which blankets us all like an overprotective mother to its youth.
Slowly the cry that omitted from the shadow crept back inside of him, he hunched over the piano still lifeless of emotion or feeling his face stone like as it gazed down at the keys before him. He had collected himself simply continuing as if the outburst had never happened placing his finger tips slowly over the keys, this time no mistake was made, and began to play. His long bony hands glided over each key with such care and precision it was more like a performance then simple play; each step along the boardwalk of ivory and ebony keys telling more and more story to the moon above. As he played the sounds skipped along transferring from pain and sadness, to that of joy and love, but slowly returning to a dark and desolate state. The darkness of the music had a hidden beauty, a beauty like that of watching a forest of life burning to the ground only to rebuild eventually in time, starting over with a new world, the other forgotten forever by time; left only to history to briefly mention it and never fully in its sincerity. The music didn't stop, it continued on and on as did the light of the moon, the two tangled in a dance, every time it jumped a step trying to take over the moon would shine brighter and cast a light more beautiful then the last taking back its place of oblique victory. In all truth the man who played did not seem to be fully aware of his work, he was lost in thought as all people with a consciousness must suffer at one point in there daily lives. As his fingertips moved along the keys lost in the dance of life tear drops fell from his stone like persona, the cold wet drops clapped against the ivory making no other nose, but saying more then the music could. Surely the music feed from his pain, his anger, his tragedy fueling its beauty and continuing its battle with the moon above. Tears stained the ivory keys casting little light down onto the shadow he made against the bench and instrument. His playing never slowed as his head bent over tears flowing like small rivers down the solemn unknown face, this figure pouring his heart out to the world, only to be heard by the moon. And in all reality it's all he wanted the more was an audience, someone to share his pain, his laughter, his love, his feelings through the music he crafted.
Outside the mansion where the play of pain was being performed, to deaf ears of a humanity that had cast out both the fortress and its inhabitant, several stirred walking amongst the forest that had made its way around the hills beyond this world. It spread apart allowing the discarded mansion some time to rest, eventually time will continue and this forest will have had enough mourning for the world of this mansion and once again as it does to all things that rest, it will take over. Destroying it with the trees and life that all forests beautifully master, it will massacre the human beauty and install the love of nature back to the world. Those that stirred in the forest seem to wait I the shadows it made, even in the black night, hiding themselves more comfortably with objects in there way incase a chase should start. They huddled close together watching the mansion, they had been brought by the cries of agony that no one but a mortal could mishear.
"Who do you think is in there Carlisle?" spoke one of the hidden figures.
The one this female figure spoke to seemed to head the group standing closest to the forest wall watching the castle with eyes of wonder and also fear, "I have my theories but we will not be sure unless we move in there…"
Before any of the others could speak a new figure showed up in the darkness, tall and lanky but hidden in darkness, this one seemed to install anger in the hidden ones. Making them move to the side a growl emitting from many of them.
"Calm down you leeches… so why don't you tell my why I seem to smell a new blood sucker in this area. You know the rules; any who have not been originally signed to the treaty are a threat to the peace."
"We don't know Sam… we felt a presence here as well that's why we came to investigate. You know this land does not show up on the treaty under any of your territory or ours. It's a safe zone really. Whoever is here picked the right place to be." Spoke Carlisle soothingly and calmly.
"Well you do know this is where the Piano Man legend lives; maybe you have been hiding one of your little leeches in this part of the woods."
A new voice spoke up just as calm as Carlisle, he seemed to be a little more wise then the others in the group, "The Piano Man of Monte Vienna is a children's fable told in these parts. If it were one of us we would have sensed him by now at least. No… whoever this is must have just recently showed up and taken refuge in the mansion."
But as the group continued to argue and talk amongst each other. They seemed to not realize that the sound of a piano had died away. The music was gone, signaling the end of this peace and the moon above took it with depression. Its bright glorious light soon died away slowly hiding itself behind the dark clouds in the sky. The figure was nowhere to be seen.
And all was quiet .