It began with a ravaging rip in the ceiling. Which, was accompanied by a chilling wail as a body fell through and crumpled in a heap on the floor. The smooth piano music came to an abrupt end. The pianist rose slowly from the bench and curiously peered over at what had transpired before him.
His clothing was almost entirely black, dark like the sky at midnight. The suit he wore was exquisite in taste. It included slacks, a vest, and a coat with tails (reserved usually only for orchestra conductors). By his own design there was also a full length cape. It was draped over the coat hanger, when worn it cascaded down off his frame. The silk spilled off his shoulders and appeared to be made of water by the way it rippled. On the underside it had a slightly lighter black color variation giving it a certain allure. It caught the faintest rays of light and produced a shimmery glow. Across the wingspan and down the spine it was adorned with several small black gems that had captured the stars themselves. The flowing sheen had a captivating quality that often left those, they among the select few, who saw it to fall under a daze of a magician's illusion. Resting on the top of the rack was his black fedora with a single silky black ribbon wrapped around it. His only other color was the white of his dress shirt underneath and little white bow tie. And the porcelain mask could not be forgotten.
The white mask worn on the right side of his face was not a mere decoration. It was perfectly crafted to every feature. The curve of his brow, the scale of his forehead, the size of his eye, the form of his nose, the shape of his cheek, and the slant of his jaw. Everything about it was attuned to his features. The precision of the craftsmanship was without question a work of art. In some light it appeared bone white or in others the color of snowfall. Sometimes it was even shown with a steely silver hue to it. The dim light portrayed it as a metallic variation. All of this designed to add to the air of mystery surrounding him.
He stood, with his left hand resting on the edge of his magnificent grand piano, and let his gaze rest on the mass that had fallen in the center of the room. The cry that had pierced the room shattered the music. That strident shriek tore him from his composition. Where there once had been piano nocturnes there was only the icy tones of silence as the body lay on the dark marble floor.
With mindful tread he inched closer. His paces wary- as if he would crack the floor beneath them. The space between him and the body drew to a slow close. An ember glow was cast about the room's faint light from the burning fire across the room. He did not shy away nor flinch from what he saw, not even when it moved. Without warning the body toppled over and was lying face up. He saw that it was a young female, not more than twenty and five years of age.
She lay there as if she was apart of the stone floor itself. Her dark brown hair had no curls and was fanned out to the side like a bird's wing. Her eyes were closed and her face peaceful, appearing to be asleep. One arm was flung across her chest holding onto an oboe. The other was strewn off to the side. Her clothing was a peculiar matter. She was wearing some mix of a foreign cloak-coat hybrid. The thinner first was a dark forest green in color while the outer one was black. Under that she wore a charcoal grey wool blouse and dark fitted trousers in a fashion he had never seen before. Not to mention that it was rather unheard of for females to wear such things. Brown chestnut boots rose up her calves. They looked vaguely like the ones equestrians used for English riding.
After he had a brief look at her, he reached down to feel for a pulse. His fingers brushed on her neck with the weight of a feather. Her skin was cold and he felt the faintest of pulses. He did not think she was going to last. She drew no breath at all while he watched her. The fall had surely caused substantial damage to her, yet not enough to grant her a quick death. She was to have an agonizingly painful one, if she could feel anything at all. The force of the impact had most likely broken bones and her skull.
He gingerly reached his hands to lift her head, he did not worry about causing spinal damage for he had felt no swelling, and felt for any gashes. He was greatly surprised to feel it was all intact. His fingers laced through her hair searching for any signs of injury and none were discovered. He carefully lowered her head back down to rest. His hands gracefully cupped the sides of her face, so gently as if she were to crack if held too tight. He focused his attention to her eyes next. They were still closed. He delicately lifted the lid of her left eye open. It was green in color but glossed over. He held it open as he felt again for a pulse with his other hand. He felt none. Mournfully he slid her eye back to a close. The lid was almost shut when she snapped to attention.
Both of her eyes flashed open and were wild. Her mouth gaped open in a desperate gasp. A hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his coat. All of this happened in the blink of his eyes. Before he could even react she was on her knees and pushing him backwards. She straddled him and her coat draped over them. Her knees held to both sides of his rib cage. Her fist was still clutching his coat and her other hand had the instrument across his throat.
"Who are you?" She asked him.
There was no opportunity for him to respond or surge against her grip on him because she slumped down onto him. Her whole body went lax and she released his coat and oboe. She came to rest with her head on his shoulder and once more entered her dormant state. However, this time she was warm to the touch and had a moderate heartbeat pattern. He was able to slither out from underneath her and gathered that she was sleeping. Her deep breathing continued as he carried her to the only room with a bed. He placed her on the soft sheets and removed her boots. He drew the blankets over her shoulders and tucked her into his own bed.
"Bonne nuit, mademoiselle, et de beaux rêves." He whispered to her as he drew the drapes to a close and silently left the room. His mind running rampant with the thoughts of the mysterious turn of events unraveling before him.