I found myself deep inside a huge, ornate mansion.
The construction had a western feel, and the decor was elegant but not gaudy. Unfortunately the place was extremely worn down, with the floorboards creaking and beams looking as if they might break at the slightest touch.
Navigating the maze of rooms, I could hear faint music coming from somewhere in the building. It was faint, but entrancing, luring me towards it before I even realized. With soft steps so that the creaky floor wouldn't drown it out, I was determined to follow the sound to its source.
I passed through the corridors, where crooked portraits hung off the walls. Portraits of a family, with four young daughters. I could barely make out their faces.
The music drew close as I approached a particular room. As I pressed my ear against the heavy wooden door, the muffled notes slipped through the gaps in the frame. I carefully pushed it open.
Inside was a rehearsal hall. All sorts of instruments were lined up in rows, with a stage at the front. Also, there was a phonograph in the corner of the room. At least, I think that's what those machines are called. They're so out of date, I've only ever seen them in pictures. In any case, the music was clearly coming from this empty room, presumably from the phonograph.
I took a seat on the edge of the stage, listening intently. This music... was absolutely beautiful, full of raw emotion.
It had started with a delicate piano melody, before being accompanied by slow, sorrowful strings. I was so moved, tears began to well in my eyes, almost like I was feeling the player's pain. Just when I thought my heart might break... the tempo gradually became faster, reaching a crescendo with a flare of trumpets that painted an entirely new mood!
After a while, the song faded to an end. The music had created an atmosphere of such warmth, the ensuing quiet was unpleasant. I rose from my seat, intending to set the record to play again.
...There was no record on the phonograph.