The Crescendo

Night always feels more welcoming than day to certain people. Some people enjoy the crisp, cool air that fills their lungs with life, others enjoy the stars and the moon if they can see them past the light pollution, even others just enjoy the night because they know its time to sleep and not get criticized for being lazy or someone of little importance. Then there are others who love the night for a more… insidious plans.

Kevin Marlow was one of these people.

Kevin would never call his desires wrong nor does he see anything wrong with them. He was a man of his own making, being raised in a low class living area where the streets raise the children with all the love of a whore mother. His father had no love for the boy that had killed his wife in an accident of birth and couldn't even cut the animals up properly, the disappointed butcher and his hemophobic boy. Kevin was just the little sheep in the town, he followed his friends through the street mazes with no thread to help find their way back. Then when his sheep friends were all laughing and celebrating their raid of the farmers green grasses the sheep shed its wool to revel the wolf.

It's funny really. Everyone wants to be the top dog and then when something bad happens to their version of reality; they crack, they snap and they see the fact that their reality was just an illusion and that the true reality belonged with another. Besides if their reality was true, why did their existence vanish with no one the wiser?

This was Kevin's belief.

This is what he had been believing since his best friend handed the money to him all those years ago. Since He saw them together when she was HIS. She was HIS reality. SHE was HIS center of being and was the one reason to him starting to take what he needed from people, because he NEEDED HER. But seeing HER with his best friend.

It…

Well…

It changed Kevin.

It was the thing that helped him grow into and continue being the wolf. At lest his had father loved him once he could carve. Well for a short time.

This is one of the nights where the wolf must prowl; he must set his territory and at the same time re-stock his wares. It really was convenient.

Tonight Kevin was tailing this lovely little lamb of the weaning teen years. Her autumn hair was rustling in the gentle breeze of Luna light. She was wearing a delightful little red dress. It was the dress that drove him to meet and greet her. This red riding hood of the streets was stumbling from his greeting. She had the look in her eyes of her reality breaking. It was like she wanted him to break it. She was leaving a clear, dripping trail for him to find her. She must have wanted him to break her reality. Even her choice of location screamed it louder than she did. An alley behind a musical hall. She was banging the door that lead to backstage, lying to herself that she wanted help and that her reality was still intact. Her shadow was a pool of black and red underneath her and it slowly grew, slipping down the stairs leading there, glinting and absorbing the overhead light.

A clock tower stuck once far in the distance.

Kevin's smile of kindness and generosity slowly faded with each chime and by the eleventh it was replaced by one of feral instinct, for the door had opened and a man was now grabbing hold of her shoulders. His green eyes meet his own brown ones. Kevin's reality met his as he hurried her past him and his penguin looking outfit complete with the tails hanging behind him. His Orange tie was nice though. He inspected it closer from behind the man, feeling its soft silky texture, while the man cringed and clawed for the Luna breeze to fill him again. He simply added some more foot power to his back. It was a very nice tie. Went with the dark grey waistcoat and sapphire shirt. Well sapphire and crimson.

That was his fault though for trying to overthrow his reality. He had a much weaker reality compared to Kevin's. Kevin had no problem proving it to the foolish man.

His voice was getting to Kevin though; his denials of reality breaking, his desire to live and his own prevailing were getting on his nerves so he removed the problem. People love ox tongue. Especially barbequed. As the man's sandy hair covered his eyes and the mini-top hat clip rested in a pool of his life Kevin turned his attention to the black case the man had left by the door when he had opened it.

Inside was a Violin.

It was made of a dark wood that was lost on Kevin. The bow was made of a similar wood. A metallic sheen coated the strings on the bow and its partner, a quick pluck proved it to be a thin metal. Looks like a wire, similar to a cheese wire. It was very pretty. Pretty enough for the man to reach for it, trying to speak out against Kevin from touching it. Foolish effort. All it earned him was a bubble of red to escape his mouth. Kevin placed the instrument in front of the man on the floor, out of his reach but close enough to give him false hope, and spying an abandoned bottle of bourbon amongst the trash forgotten by the town.

Probably left over from most likely some random homeless soul that Kevin hasn't found yet. Making a mental note to re-stock his inventory tomorrow night, Kevin looked into the stricken eyes as he poured the little that remained onto the wooden surface. Then, without looking away, he pulled a lighter out of his pants pocket, opened it up and flicked the wick alight causing it to dance in the night breeze, consuming the life around it and feeding without remorse, nor discrimination.

Like it now feed on the case.

Kevin loved the look set in the man's eyes.

His reality had been shattered.

Now his reality faded.

Now it was gone.

Kevin smiled and kicked the body, rolling it in his own life force turning his black coat maroon in patches and streaks. Kevin loved the look of his body as it lays before him, fallen to the truth of the universe.

Picking up the red and flabby source of his denial he flicked it into the case of fire without a second thought and then started to rummage through his pockets, looking for the keys to his holy grail waiting right behind the door. Instead he found a dark leather wallet with a tribute to his victory. How thoughtful of the whelp. Pocketing the sheep's grass he turned his attention to the driver's license and curiosity sank her claws into him so he pulled it out to discover the dearly departed identity. He liked to know who he was re-stocking his wares with.

Eli Jarrell

D.O.B: 28/August/1995 Sex: M

Class: CA Type: P2

So the man was just a boy trying to be a man, now wonder the reality was so fun to break. I mean to him this was just the right kind of music to his ears. Like the slow beginning of a verse…

Kind of like to one that was beginning right now.

Which was odd. There were no speakers out here for it to be the building…

Plus the apartment complex that made the other wall had been closed for a year now, something about murder and disappearances.

The music was reflecting off the small corridor of shadows and crimson, bouncing around and Kevin's head, filling his ears and mind with dark tenderloins of sound, beauty… and anger. Tiny movement caught his eyes as the burning instrument was glistening and the wires were snapping from the heat and then right in front of his widening eyes, they slithered off into the darkness. Kevin backed away from the case as the music started getting louder and louder. Kevin stumbled a little, the chorus assaulting his ears was starting to burn and his mind was being bombarded with sharp stabs of pain, striking again and again without mercy.

He threw his hands over his ears, trying to cover the sound of the music with his own flesh in an attempt to stop the pain. He was stumbling away from the alley, steeping through a large empty puddle of life fluid, his footsteps trailing behind him like a beacon of red to his current position.

Kevin felt something he hadn't felt for a long time. He felt his reality being threatened, he could feel his grasp dwindle with each sharp note cutting away another piece of his mind and it was just getting worse with each stanza past. Kevin scrambled to his feet, bowing through anything that stood his way as he made the journey of the alleys and mazes he had come so accustom as his territory that barely notice that his heels were being shadowed by the chorus of the violin's music.

Kevin screamed as the second chorus plundered into his mind, causing his vision to stain with spots of white, black and red. His only relief was that his ears had stopped burning and the cooling trickle of life that was oozing out of them was a somewhat soothing feeling.

With his had spinning, his feet dragged him down an alley to escape the infliction on his mind to see it barred by a wall far to high to reach in his current sate. If he had been the one hunting, maybe but as he had entered the shadowy corner, he had realized he was the one being hunted. The songs bridge now bore down on his from all angles; causing him to scream so loud he felt his own blood spurt into being out of his damaged throat.

Knocking over a cluster of trash cans as tripped after a particularly strong rising in tempo causing his vision to blur. Kevin could feel the vibrating with each swish of the song rake his mind with more pain and saw something that could not be true.

Eli was standing there over him, his eyes dilating so much his cornea was completely swallowed by the dark green irises with only a small prick of black in the center, his hair parting in front of his face with his top hat clip fixed upon his head again. His coat was still stained with maroon in an almost intricate pattern of black and dark red. The dark grey waistcoat was hanging open revealing the now loose orange tie and crimson and blue shirt coving the results of Kevin's logical arguments and cutting retorts. His pants had absorbed more of his life as he laid in it causing it to turn mostly maroon. His eyes bore into Kevin's as he moved his gloved hands back and forward…

Almost as if he had a song to play.

He felt his legs buckle and looked past his wild and unkempt red hair to see him again standing perfectly still; not saying a word, never again able to say a word. Slowly he stopped moving his dancing hands then lowered them till they were level with his chest and claps them together and slowly, with a high pitched whine pulled them apart revealing wires stretching themselves thin connecting his fingers. Wires; that slithered around his hands and tightened themselves around his hands. Wires that shared a similar sheen to the ones on his bow, which was now nothing but an ashen memory.

As he slowly walked towards Kevin, he could feel the music swell and his reality about to disappear, never to be heard of again. He crawled towards the end of the alley in a vain attempt of self-perseveration before the crescendo of the final chorus arrived in the form of the music reaching the highest and most painful moment in Kevin's memory as the wires that had slipped around his hands as he defended his reality from the destruction that was threatening him.

Kevin's resistance was removed with the next B sharp. The smirk that Kevin had worn was now being shown to his face as the wires slithered away from his fountaining stumps and around his screaming neck and tightened with the next B sharp.

Kevin's reality had been shattered.

Now his reality faded.

Now it was gone.

As was the song.

Graham's bus was running a few minutes late but it felt longer for the old man since he arrived early to make sure he didn't miss it for his job. The suns first couple of rays were creeping over the horizon, not that he could tell from the mist and low fog covering the area giving it a smoked ash shade to the already dark surroundings. The crisp early morning air was a slightly chilly due to the late Autumn Chicago weather and could even be felt through the woolen parka he was wearing. The thirty-five year old man shifted the newspaper under his armpit as he rubbed his hands together, blowing on them to increase its effectiveness in heating them up. He hadn't seen anyone surprisingly for a good ten minutes.

Soft footsteps from his right drew his bored attention to see an outline of a young man or older teen walking towards him along the footpath. Just before he broke the mists caressing embrace Graham's ears popped making him flinch and rub them in annoyance at the faint melody that was now making itself known to the world when it had been silent for a Chicago morning. Hearing the footsteps stop almost in front of him he looked up to the young man staring at him and jumped, dropping the paper to the ground to rustle in the morning breeze.

His eyes… They were completely filled with the green of his irises above his smirking face. Not to mention that his pupils were all but gone into pinpricks. Even worse, his clothes were in disarray and discolored. But the worst part was the violin he was carrying. A charcoal black creation that was cracked and lined… and had the face of a screaming skull bursting out of the wood. Its silent scream looked in agony behind the strings that linked with its nose and teeth to the top of its skull and the wood protruding from its dome and made Graham nervous for obvious reasons. Looking back to the man's face He saw the same smirk still on his face as he lifted his free hand and pointed a finger to his lips in a gesture of silence. Then with measured movements he lifted the blackened wood to his chin and started to rub his now strangely glinting fingertips along the strings, almost like he had a song for the older man.

His confused thoughts weird interrupted by a sudden pain in his head.

As the melody and screams echoed through the mist a newspaper flicked in the morning breeze to the fourth page and onto an article about a murder that had occurred three days ago.

Murderer's Poetic Justice?

Police investigations revealed the victim turned out to have been a vicious serial killer that had evaded police for years. He had been found in an alley behind a series of run-down and vacant buildings with his hands and head decapitated, but there were two things that puzzled the police; the first was that the serial killer's, that had been identified as one Kevin Kadov, a local butcher, head hadn't been found while his hands were a mere few feet away. The other was according to an eye witness that had been taken into protective custody and refused to be named said that she was saved from the serial killer, who had tried to attack and possible killer her, by a young man. She then saw him killed by the butcher from a hidden back security camera before it fuzzes out to static. The police urged citizens to be wary of strangers and that this was an isolated threat and not the beginnings of a new serial killer.

The breeze picked up and blew the paper up and onto a crimson pool that was spreading from the lone figure sitting on the bench of a bus stop as a strange melody faded away with the softly receding footsteps.

Emily jumped a little at the barking of a dog outside of her home late at night. Her parents study was right next to their neighbor's dog house, so It wasn't a big rarity for it to bark, it's just with the lamp light it was a tad spooky. Putting the paper for the day that she hadn't got around to reading yet, telling another story about another death. There had been a lot lately and it just reminded her of that night. She sighed and wiped her eyes. She had been jumping at all sorts of things lately, anyone would when a crazy bastard suddenly grabs your shoulder and then stabs you in the gut. Sure it had been six months but… You never really recover from something like that. You survive yes, but not recover. If she hadn't found that door… but she did regret that someone had to die so she could live. Not many people would help someone else in this day and age. She tried not to think about it but it had a habit of slinking its way into her thoughts when she was thinking about how much more she appreciated her life. The dog barked again and stayed barking few a few more seconds before it calmed down.

She got up with a groan and walked into the kitchen , shutting the door behind her then to the fridge, opening it up and taking a drink of milk straight from the jug, not like she was going to get sick or she was going to die from it. She was just too lazy to get a cup for that, what was the big deal. She put it back and shut the door.

She had watched that poor guy die… just to save her skin. His image was burned into her mind. His cries, the blood, how he looked struggling, the fire, all of it. Well up until it turn to static. The police had found her in there, huddled with the phone off the hook after calling them and face covered in her own blood and tears. Her family had been hysterical and demand that she return to her home in Australia and she was more than happy to leave Chicago behind after that.

Hearing footsteps coming downstairs she greeted her dad as he was probably ready for his night shift as a security worker, but he didn't answer so he mustn't have heard her. He was getting older and a tad hard of hearing. So with the paper back on her mind she went back to the study to read the newest Calvin and Hobbies comic, sure it was older but it was still funny. She opened the door and then saw him.

It wasn't like he was hiding. He was just standing there, in front of the bookshelf. He even had the same fucking hat clip on. His back was turned and was just examining the books. But the scary thing was the fresh blood that was dripping onto the books at his fingertips and dripping from the maroon coat. His head then jerked as if he had just heard her and he turned around. His sandy hair hair had grown slightly longer so it was tickling the middle of his bright, gleaming eyes but not reaching his smirking mouth. But the thing that stabbed her heart with true fear… was the pair of reading glasses that was stained with gore in the corner of the lens. A pair of reading glasses that look a remarkable lot like her father's ones.

The trembling woman fell back a step when he took one… then another one. Emily then took flight up the stairs, nearly slipping on the trail left from him coming downstairs, a thought that terrified her. How long had he been here? Where was dad & mom? Why was this happening to her?

She burst into her parent's room to find a site that broke the tears that had been threatening to slip out since she saw the man. Her mother was tied up; her hands were together above her head, tied to the head board, unable to move with a look of pure terror, fear and devastation on her face and in her eyes as she couldn't screaming around the bloodied rag that was in her mouth. But she was alive. Her father… her father had been tied up as well… but the wires wrapped around his neck like snakes and then impaled into his throat and coming out his mouth, eyes rolled back in agony and blood leaking from his ears, was an obvious sign that he had been here. Then there was the other thing left by the man. A message on the wall written in her father's blood.

Dear Miss,

A life for a life.

You took mine and gave me a new one at the same time.

So I took you're father and gave you your mother.

My debt to you is repaid...

…as well as my vengeance.

That's your part in the show over.
Time to close the curtain.

Yours Most Sincerely

Eli

Emily had collapsed and as just staring at the figure of her father as he lay there in rigor mortise, she shut down in her head. So she didn't hear the door open again; nor her mother's whimpers and muffled cries increase in urgency and volume, not even the caressing hand around her chin as the wires snake around them or the melody that was invading her mind.

But she noticed the smirk as he brought his finger in a shushing motion before it was pulling on the strings of life.

Then Emily Peterson's reality was finally taken.

…

….

…..

…

~But why stop there? ~

Eli Smiled as the small giggling voice in his head said what he was thinking. He had left the house and was walking through a city's garden in the dead of night. A small dark indigo serpent with a pair of violet eyes was floating along beside him, glowing in the darkness above a gleaming mouth of serrated teeth. The both of them turned to the sounds of drunken laughed coming from the left that soon turned to moans of pleasure. The serpent twisted and turned onto itself changing into an indigo goblin-like creature that seated on top of Eli's hat, making itself comfortable then looking down on his newest source of entertainment.

~Music should be shared with many people. I gave you you're power, now let's use it for some more fun. Hehe. ~

Yes, Puck was right. Time for the next show…